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J 



THE YOUNG GUNBEARER 


The Woodranger Tales 

by 

G. Waldo Browne 

The "WocxJf anger 

The Young Gunbearer 

The Hero of the Hills (in preparation) 

U C PAGE AND COMPANY 

(Incorporated) 

212 Summer St.^ Boston^ Mass. 




THE WOODRANGER AND ROBERT ROGERS 

{See page rj.) 



THE 


YOUNG GUNBEARER 

A Tale of the Neutral Ground, Acadia, 
AND THE Siege of Louisburg 


BY 

G. WALDO BROWNE 

t* 

AUTHOR OF “THE WOODRANGER,” ETC., ETC. 


EllustrateS bg 
LOUIS MEYNELL 



BOSTON 

L. C. PAGE & COMPANY 

1900 


57590 


I UibrAry of Oor}ov*4Me 
■’wo Cowis RtCttVEO 

OCT 6 1900 

Ctf yHffht tntry 

c ri . 0 

SECOND COfY. 

0e((v«red to 

ORDER OtVtSiON, 

O CT 27 1900 


'f 



Copyright^ igoo 

By L. C. Page and Company 

(incorporatkd) 

All rights reserved 



Colottfal Prc00 

Electrotyped and Printed by C. H. Simonds Sc Co. 
Boston, Mass., U. S. A. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER 

Forecast .... 




PAGE 

3 

I. 

The Watch - fires . 




1 1 

II. 

The Forest Forge . 




20 

III. 

An Old Game . 




28 

IV. 

News of War . 




38 

V. 

The Son of a Spy . 




44 

VI. 

Rescue of Alex 




56 

VII. 

‘‘ Knack ’Gainst Cunning ” 




64 

VIII. 

The Acadian Ranger 




71 

IX. 

Rob Acts the Scout 




83 

X. 

Outwitting the Enemy . 




96 

XI. 

The Fugitives . 




107 

XII. 

A Stout Arm 




115 

XIII. 

A Long Leap 




122 

XIV. 

How Rob Found the Woodranger 


136 

XV. 

A Stormy Flight 




144 

XVI. 

Seeking Shelter 




154 

XVII. 

The Signal of Danger . 




163 

XVIII. 

A Hand - to - hand Encounter 



177 

XIX. 

Challenged by the Enemy 




187 

XX. 

Tales of the Greenwood 




197 

XXL 

Running the Rapids 




207 

XXII. 

A Ride on a Moose. 




216 

XXIII. 

The Arm of Gold . 




227 

XXIV. 

An “Amazement” for Four 




236 


vii 


Vlll 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER 

XXV. 

XXVI. 

XXVII. 

XXVIII. 

XXIX. 

XXX. 

XXXI. 

XXXII. 


The Warrior Pine 

Rob Says He Is a Gunbearer 

How Rob Carried the News to Main- 

A-Dieu . 

The Louisburg Expedition 
The Gunbearers of Silver River 
The Hero of LouiSBtjRG. 

An Astonishing Discovery 
The Fight at the Forge 


PAGE 

247 

257 

266 

275 

285 

298 

313 

322 


LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

The Woodr anger and Robert Rogers Frontispiece 

“Alex . . . was lifted upward until only his 

TOES touched the FLOOR” . . . *55 

“ ‘ I LET GO OF ONE EAR AND GRASPED MY KNIFE ’ ” 225 

“ The occupant of the dwelling . . . soon ap- 
peared AT THE door’’ 27 1 


FORECAST. 


The incidents of ‘‘The Young Gunbearer/' the 
second of “ The Woodranger Tales/’ belong to that 
period of colonial history known in America as 
“ King George’s War.” In Europe this was called 
the “War of the Austrian Succession.” In reality 
it was the reopening of an old quarrel between Eng- 
land and France, and, like all of their wars, was 
quickly transplanted to their colonies in the New 
World. Here, in addition to their bitter opposition 
to the English, the French rallied around them their 
Indian allies, whose bloody deeds carried terror to 
the hearts of the New England colonists. 

The French domains in America, styled New 
France, extended from the Banks of Newfoundland 
to the Gulf of Mexico. The shape of this vast ter- 
ritory, considerable of it unexplored, was that of a 
huge crescent. Exposed on all sides to the attacks 
of enemies, it was guarded on the frontiers by forts 
defended by armed troops, and by fortified bulwarks 
on the North Atlantic coast. It had a most check- 
ered history. At no time did peace prevail through- 
out the colony. At the opening scenes of “The 
3 


4 


FOI^ECAST. 


Young Gunbearer '' the great West was not disturbed 
by any more serious danger than the echoes of bat- 
tles already fought, and the warning notes of others 
to come. In the East, however, the alarm of war 
had spread over Acadia, and the first guns had been 
fired. Acadia, in its most limited sense, comprising 
what is now known as Nova Scotia, standing at the 
gateway to the Canadas, the wilderness of the bound- 
less North, with its savage tribes, its inland seas, and 
their maritime importance, as it had many times 
previously, became debatable ground, though de- 
nominated in the various treaties as the ‘‘ Neutral 
Country.'' Before describing the events which lay 
the foundation of our historic narrative, it is fitting 
that we briefly trace the history of this peninsula. 

This coast was discovered by the Cabots June 24, 
1497, only five years after Columbus had sailed on 
his first voyage, though no attempt was made by 
England to colonise the territory. Seventy-two years 
later, however, a body of colonists from Virginia 
sought to hold it on the ground of first discovery 
by their countrymen. This claim was successfully 
resisted by the fishermen and merchants, who had 
found the Banks of Newfoundland and the Bay of 
Fundy valuable fishing waters. 

Sieur de Monts, the patron of De Champlain, first 
colonised the territory in 1604, by planting a settle- 
ment at Port Royal, afterward Englished into An- 


FORECAST. 


5 


napolis-Royal, and he named the peninsula UAca- 
die, from the Indian term Aquoddie , — a pollock, — 
changed by the succeeding French into Acadie, and 
converted by the English into Acadia. 

Regardless of the claim of the French, in 1630 
King James I., of England, granted the peninsula to 
William Alexander, and the grant was named by 
him Nova Scotia, though frequently called New 
Scotland. Quite a number of nobles and their fol- 
lowers immediately settled in the new province. 
Nine years later Charles I. sold to one hundred and 
fifty of the nobility, some of whom were living 
in the territory, what his father had given away. 
The original French inhabitants and their descend- 
ants, however, were allowed to remain unmolested. 
They were not disturbed until Cromwell, in 1654, 
made an unsuccessful attempt to drive them out. 

In 1667, under Charles II., Acadia, or Nova 
Scotia, was ceded to France under the treaty of 
Breda, and it remained under French rule until 
1689, when Sir William Phipps, at the head of an 
expedition of English colonists from Massachusetts, 
captured the country. 

Following the conquest of Sir William Phipps, 
Nova Scotia was given a period of comparative 
peace, until the French Chevalier Villabon made a 
successful attack on the province, and again the red 
cross of St. George was supplanted by the white lilies 


6 


FORECAST, 


of Louis. By the treaty of Ryswick, in 1 696, for the 
second time this territory was ceded to France, and 
again it became known as L'Acadie. 

Exultant over his triumph here, Villabon at once 
undertook to recover all of the territory which had 
at one time belonged to France, from the Isle Royal, 
on the east, to the Penobscot on the west. This 
aroused the English colonists of Massachusetts, and 
Captain Church was sent at the head of an expedi- 
tion to teach the PTench a lesson. This old Indian 
fighter, celebrated as the slayer of King Philip, was 
amply capable of doing this. A sort of pious bigot, 
who could shut his eyes to all sorts of indignities if 
the victims happened to be French or Indian, but 
who was ready to retaliate any wrong done by the 
enemy with terrible vengeance, there are many 
instances of his cold indifference to humanity, but 
they do not make wholesome reading here. Well, 
this man, in 1710, laid waste the fair meadows of 
Grand Pr6, as they had never been ravaged before, 
and applied the torch to the homes of the inhabi- 
tants, who were either slain like creatures of the 
wilderness, or driven in nakedness to the forests for 
refuge. Not until the last of the ruthless invaders 
had disappeared from the scene did the survivors 
of their cruel attack dare to come out from their 
concealment. With commendable resignation, they 
set about repairing the destruction done them ; their 


FORECAST, 


7 


cottages were rebuilt, their chapels restored, and 
again the fertile meadows took on their carpet of 
green. 

As a result of this conquest of Captain Church, 
under the terms of the treaty of Utrecht, in 1713, 
with Queen Anne as sovereign of England, Nova 
Scotia was ceded back to the English, and has 
remained a British possession ever since. Under the 
conditions of this treaty, the French inhabitants were 
to remain unmolested on their taking the oath of 
allegiance to their new rulers. This was done in 
1727-28, when they pledged themselves not to move 
against the English, and were promised that they 
should not be called upon to take up arms against 
their countrymen. Placed in the position of neutrals, 
they became known as such, and Acadia, instead of 
being debatable ground, was considered neutral 
ground.’^ 

Besides these attacks and counter-attacks by kingly 
powers, in 1613 an adventurer from Virginia, named 
Argali, seized the feeble settlement of Port Royal, 
and laid waste the surrounding country. Tradition 
says that a church at this place, plundered by this 
freebooter and his band, contained two bells of solid 
silver, which of their own weight sank into the 
ground out of sight, where they lie to this day. Port 
Royal had a most checkered career, and was almost 
continually under the fire of English or French guns. 


8 


FORECAST. 


and when not assailed by one of these was fighting 
within itself. The torch and the gun were constantly 
in hand for over two hundred years, until the hand 
of Britain closed too firmly upon it, in 1710, to be 
loosened, and its name was changed to Annapolis- 
Royal in honour of Queen Anne. 

If the puppets of kings, who traded them back and 
forth like so many men on the checker-board, the 
Acadians remained quiet and contented under the 
various treaties, and if the cross or lily surmounted 
their sceptre, whether as L’Acadie or New Scotland, 
the people thrived through their industry, and in- 
creased in numbers. Holding their property to all 
intents and purposes in common, there were no pau- 
pers, and few indeed had no thatch- roofed cottages 
to call their homes. Money was not plenty with 
them, but they had little need of it. Each family 
owned cows, sheep, and horses, had, in fact, all the 
requirements toward a living a pastoral people needed. 
Churches were comfortably supported by a portion 
of the harvests, one twenty-seventh being set apart 
for that purpose. Crime was quite unknown, and the 
petty quarrels were usually settled by the priests. 
It will thus be seen that Acadie, as it was called at 
that time, was as near an earthly Paradise as it is 
apparently possible for a people to make it. 

The ancestors of the Acadians were immigrants 
from Poitou, Saintonge, and La Rochelle, who had 


FORECAST. 


9 


come in the early years of the seventeenth century. 
Grand Pr6, which means the Great Meadow/’ with 
its hundreds of white-walled cottages, built after the 
Normandy idea of architecture, and white chapels, 
was one of the most beautiful settlements in all New 
France. The people had reclaimed their homesteads 
very largely from the sea, and their lands afforded a 
bountiful harvest. They exported much grain to 
Boston, and were prosperous and contented. Light- 
hearted and simple in his methods of living, of a 
deeply religious nature, the Acadian was of spotless 
character. The care for his flocks, the cultivation 
of his fields, and the welfare of his spiritual being 
completed the dream of his life. The number of 
the Acadians was probably about seven thousand, 
though they have been estimated as high as eighteen 
thousand. 

In the midst of their idyllic happiness a shadow 
fell on the Eden-like scene, a premonition of the 
storm to follow. This cloud, though a speck on the 
horizon no larger than one’s hand, had been dis- 
covered by a few at the time of our tale, though that 
was more than ten years before the banishment of 
the Acadians, which forms one of the most pathetic 
incidents in American history. Our beloved Long- 
fellow made immortal this sad story of the fate of a 
race. My purpose, if he who writes to amuse can 
claim that dignity, is to portray the causes, in a slight 


lO 


FORECAST. 


way, which led up to the despoliation of the people. 
We do this with no malice toward the hapless victims, 
though they may have been peculiarly blind to their 
unfortunate situation, but rather to show their help- 
lessness between the two mighty powers that were at 
war with each other, and who, like a pair of huge 
scissors, were bound to cut whatever came between 
them, without materially injuring themselves. Several 
of those who figure so prominently in the adventures 
of The Young Gunbearer*' later belonged to that 
band of exiles. It is well to remember that there 
were many Gabriels and Evangelines made to suffer. 
An ancient willow still marks the site of the smithy 
of Basil the Basque ; a well is still shown as the one 
where Evangeline and her lover were wont to meet ; 
the stone that formed the foundation of Father 
Fafard's little chapel is yet to be seen ; the rock from 
which Jean Vallie made his remarkable leap has 
remained unchanged through all the years ; in fact, 
while the footprints of man have been washed away, 
the handiwork of nature still retains its ancient 
grandeur and beauty. Acadia is Acadia still, the 
richer for its legends and historic interest, its pathos 
and its religious contentment. 


G. Waldo Browne. 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


CHAPTER 1. 

THE WATCH-FIRES. 

Well, lad, here we are at last, and it's a goodish 
perambulation o’ woods and waters we’ve had.” 

Strong three hundred miles, Woodranger. But 
look to the south ; is not that bright spot on the 
horizon a fire ? The moon is not yet in sight, though 
she cannot be far below the skirt of the forest.” 

‘‘Well spoken, Rob. I was marking the spot 
myself. As you say, the moon is too deep in yon 
wilderness to put sich an eye in the brow o’ the 
great green wood. Nay, it is not the moon, lad. 
And if you want to see its mate, look yon on oT 
North Mountain,” swinging his long right arm 
slowly around in a direction opposite to that first 
observed. 

“ You are right, Woodranger,” acknowledged his 
companion, as he followed the other’s movement. 


II 


12 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


I can see another fire plainly, now you have called 
my attention to it. Perhaps they are watch-fires, 
kindled on those heights to warn vessels which hap- 
pen to be off the coast.’' 

‘‘ Nay, lad, now you let your knack at reading signs 
run a wild-goose race with your jedgment. Watch- 
fires yon bright blazes may be, but they be the watch- 
fires o’ scouts and not life-savers. There be no 
’casion for either, ’cording to my knack o’ unravel- 
ling a skein. See the leetle tongues o’ flame leap up 
from this one on our right. The other burns per- 
fectly even, as if it had been trimmed by a pair o’ 
big shears. I ne’er claim great credit for reading 
sich sign, seeing the book o’ natur’ is open to all, 
but some message is being sent from mountain top 
to mountain top. It is a message o’ war, too, and 
you’d chide me for being simple enough to say it is 
being sent abroad by the dusky heathens o’ this land.” 

So you think there is mischief afoot, Woodranger } 
But this is the neutral ground of the French and 
English.” 

Neutral ground it be, lad, but it does not signify 
that men with bloody hearts may not kindle signal- 
fires. It may not be the heathen who is alone to 
blame. New Scotland, in the midst o’ which we are, 
is a British province, as it must be for the safety o’ 
New England, but it’s peopled mainly by an alien race. 
Harmony ’tween this people and their rulers is not 


THE WATCH-FIRES, 


13 


^cording to the rules o' natur’. There be no man so 
ill o' fare as him who sarves his master begrudgingly. 
I ne'er like the willingness with which these Acadian 
neutrals don the feathers and war-paint o' the dusky 
heathens. The red man's love for bright colours be 
his gift, and when the white man mimics him, natur' 
clashes. I fear me the simple neutral is blind to his 
own interest. These be fruitful meadows, and the 
industrious people have prospered under King 
George’s easy ways. Mark the difference 'tween 
'em and the habitants under the French, who are 
everywhere groaning 'neath the burdens laid on 'em 
by the corrupted government o' a corrupted king." 

*‘So you think Captain Vaughan was right in ex- 
pecting trouble, Woodranger " 

durst not dissemble, lad, as pleasanter as it 
might be to previcate the truth. It does seem to 
me the lesson o' Lovewell's bloody fight has all got 
to be I’arned over ag’in. Thetarm o' peace is break- 
ing, as a dry stick in the forest snaps under the 
keerless foot o' some invader. I read it in all the 
signs, as far as my knack goes in reading the great 
unwritten language. It is hence the craft o' the 
gun, lad, the craft o' the gun. 

But see ! the watch-fires are losing their bright- 
ness in the light o' the rising moon. No doubt the 
cunning reds have flashed their sign abroad to 'em 
who were looking for it." 


14 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


The setting sun of a late summer day, 1744, was 
throwing long, shadowy arms over the silvery water, 
as the speaker and his companion propelled their 
back canoe leisurely up the Strait of Minas leading 
to that inland sea known as Minas Basin, lying on 
the northeast coast of Nova Scotia. They had 
passed through the “ Narrows,’’ that dangerous 
channel where the flood-tides of the Bay of Fundy 
often reach the appalling height of seventy feet, the 
highest tide in the world, and now paused to scan 
the surrounding country. 

The older of the two was a man still on the sunny 
side of fifty, though his abundant hair and beard 
were streaked with threads of silver, and his rugged 
features, beaming with honest simplicity, were bronzed 
and marked with years of exposure to the hardships 
of a life in the wilderness. His garb was that of a 
woodsman, a pair of tight-fitting buckskin pantaloons, 
frilled up and down the seams, a hunting-frock of the 
colour of the greenwood, fringed along the sleeves 
and around the bottom with yellow, and girthed 
closely about the waist by a wide belt, so the gar- 
ment could not flutter as he moved through the 
forest. A cap made of the skin of the silver fox, 
shorn of its fur for summer wear, with the long tail 
hanging down his shoulders, covered his head. His 
feet were encased in moccasins of Indian pattern and 
ornamentation. 


THE WATCH-FIRES. 1 5 

He had risen from his seat at the words of his 
companion, and now his erect figure was drawn up 
to its six feet of sterling manhood, his right foot 
slightly ahead, and his body inclined forward, as he 
gazed into the distance. His left hand had been 
raised over his eyes to shield them from the con- 
flicting rays of light, while in his right he held up- 
right, with its butt resting in the bottom of the 
canoe, his serviceable firearm, a weapon which had 
been his constant companion for nearly twenty 
years. Its muzzle nearly reached his head, tall as 
he was, for every frontiersman of those days had 
faith only in the gun that had a long barrel. It 
had a smooth bore, the rifle being then unknown, 
was single-barrelled, and under his experienced marks- 
manship carried a bullet with wonderful precision. 
The handle of a stout knife appeared above the rim 
of his belt. A bullet-pouch and powder-horn, slung 
from his shoulders, completed his accoutrements. 
His home wherever the wildwood shielded him from 
heat, cold, or storm, he was known in northern 
New England, Canada, or New France as ‘‘The 
Woodranger.” 

His companion, though a beardless youth, was of 
a physique scarcely less strong, being almost as tall 
as the Woodranger, with a breadth of chest and 
strength of limb unusual for a boy of seventeen. 
His countenance was of marked beauty, except the 


1 6 THE YOUNG GUNBEAREE 

nose, which was very prominent. His dress was 
more fanciful and picturesque than that of his com- 
panion, as might have been expected of one of his 
years. The cape of his tunic-like hunting-shirt, which 
was made of dressed buckskin, as well as its skirt, 
was tastefully fringed and embroidered with the 
stained quills of the porcupine. His leggings, of the 
same material, were heavily frilled, while the seams of 
his moccasins were treated in the same manner. A 
cap of the raccoon skin, the fur left on, sat jauntily 
on his head, the long tail, with its dark, transverse 
bars, hanging down behind like the drooping plume 
of a helmet. 

He, too, carried a long, single-barrelled gun, now 
conveniently at hand, as he sat in the bow of the 
canoe. The handle of a knife showed itself above 
his belt, while two leathern sashes, crossing each 
other upon his breast, held respectively a bullet- 
pouch, made from the head of a wood-duck, and a 
crescent-shaped powder-horn, a grotesque image of 
some strange imp carved at one end. Attached to 
these belts by leathern strings were a wiper and 
picker for his gun, and steel for striking fire. 

The name of this youth was Robert Rogers, and, 
young as he was, in the vicinity of his home in the 
Merrimac valley, in the Province of New Hampshire, 
it was a synonym of deeds of daring and skill in 
woodcraft. Of him it had been said, ‘‘ he was a dead 


THE WATCH-FIRES, 


17 


shot, as fleet as a deer, as nimble as a fox, and he 
could swim like an otter.’' 

As their conversation has led us to think, this 
couple have only just reached this country, coming 
overland from the valley of the Merrimac, the Wood- 
ranger having been in Acadia before. Their errand 
in being here was to look after some property inter- 
ests held in this vicinity by one Captain William 
Vaughan, who was one of the New England men 
who sent fishing-vessels to the coasts of that region. 
Captain Vaughan was then concentrating his time and 
energies in founding a pioneer settlement at Damaris- 
cotta, in the Province of Maine. Of him we shall 
hear more anon, as well as learn further particulars 
of the work of his agents. 

Even in that land of delightful prospects and 
dreamy beauty, a more entrancing landscape and sea- 
view could not have been found than that upon which 
the Woodranger and Rob Rogers gazed, as their keen 
sights swept the country far and near. In the dis- 
tance, far enough removed to lend additional charm 
to the happy scene, lay the lawnlike meadows of 
Grand Pre, their broad plains unbroken by a fence. 
The cottage homes of the peaceful people, the groves 
of willows and maples, apple orchards, stately elms 
and lone sycamores were in sight. Near to them 
opened the wide mouth of the Gaspereau, with its 
forest of beeches and maples, and a border of pines. 


1 8 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

where the long range of hills fretted the horizon. 
Right at hand there frowned down upon them that 
dark bulwark of Nature, Cape Blomidon, then called 
Blow-me-down.'’ " The lower portion of this tower- 
ing promontory, composed of red sandstone, afforded 
a meagre existence in its seams and crevices for a 
growth of stunted birches and willows, while the 
upper half was a bare wall of dark gray rock, fringed 
at the crest by a scanty strip of fir-trees. This for- 
bidding sentinel at the gateway of Minas Basin stood 
nearly six hundred feet high, or one hundred and 
fifty feet higher than the walls of Quebec. 

Blomidon is to the Land of Evangeline '' what 
Mount Katahdin is to Maine, and the White Hills to 
New Hampshire. Around its dizzy form clings a per- 
fect network of mythical tales. It was the very battle- 
ground of the gods of the early aborigines. Here lived 
the gods and demi-gods of the Micmacs, who, with the 
Penobscot tribes of Maine and the St. Francis Indians 
of the North, were known to the English as the 
Abnakis. Here was evolved a mythology, which, 
could it have been traced in season, would have out- 
rivalled the wild legends of Odin and the beautiful 
myths of the Southland. Here the seas, forests, and 

* Early navigators declared they could not pass this rocky barrier 
without being blown on their beams-end. Hence the term, which 
the French way of taking down orally seems to have converted into 
Blomidon. 


THE WATCH-FIRES. 


19 


skies were peopled with races of giants, demons of 
darkness and angels of light. Blomidon was the 
sacred abode of these spirits whose dwelling no man 
dared to invade. If in these legends we trace many 
an Aryan fancy, an Eskimo dream, or a Norse tale, 
it shows the close connection of the origin of the 
North American race to those of the Old World. 

Over this landscape and the silvery waters the 
rising moon lent a bewitching colouring, while a 
resinous odour from the pines, fresh and invigorat- 
ing, filled all the air. 


CHAPTER 11. 

THE FOREST FORGE. 

‘‘ Aweel, now's me," said the Woodranger, as he 
seated himself in the canoe, and exchanged his gun 
for the paddle, ‘‘ it may be well for us to be moving, 
though there be many things to invite one to tarry 
longer here. Once I remember o' coming up this 
waterway in company with a friendly Micmac, and if 
his skin was dusky his heart was white. He told me 
many a queer conceit o' his heathen ancestors. And 
I must say I was not displeased with what he said. 

He told me," continued the forester, as he and 
Rob began to use gently their paddles, ‘‘ that his 
worship taught him that every created object, be it 
animal or plant, had a soul and a hereafter, which to 
me is a pretty conceit, and speaks well for the man 
whose great gift is the craft o' war. No creature 
with a heart deep enough to feel the pain-cry o' the 
vine that lies crushed under its own foot, or the 
songs o' freedom in the rushing waters, can be all evil. 
He will not be forgotten by the Master in the great 
wigwam above. I believe it, lad, I do. 


20 


THE FOREST FORGE, 


21 


‘‘ The red was unequalled in the resources o’ his 
imagination. He saw shapes in the rocks, figures 
in the air, in the rippling o’ waters and the sighing 
o’ the wind a language o’ abiding eloquence. He 
loved to people the valleys and deep wild wood with 
elfs, naiads, and fairies o’ surpassing beauty ; the 
rocky heights he habitated with gods and spirits o’ 
the wildest and most grotesque forms. To every 
waterfall and precipice belonged some hero-tale ; to 
every laughing cascade and sunny water some love 
romance. So you see the wilder the place the wilder 
and more weird the legend. It was natural the 
legends of this vicinity should partake of the mighty 
and mysterious. Everything about natur’ here is on 
a grand scale. The very fogs give peculiar effects 
to objects, and make trees into walking men o’ 
monstrous size. I’ve seen this myself, and I claim 
no great knack at reading sich signs. The simple 
red man sees with his soul in clus touch with natur’, 
in each bush stirred by a passing breeze some crea- 
tor’, in the cloud-swept pine a figure of giant form, 
and in the undying thunder o’ ol’ Fundy the voice 
o’ a mighty and terrible power calling unto him. 

‘‘ The hero o’ this vicinity was a demigod called 
Glooscap, whose abiding-place, when stopping here- 
abouts, was ol’ Blow-me-down. But this ol’ fellow, 
who was so tall that, when he straightened up, his 
head touched the stars, had a mortal inemy in the 


22 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


beaver. The beaver took great delight in torment- 
ing him, and to do so the better took up his home 
in Minas Basin, which was then a big lake, with no 
connection to the sea. Glooscap stood this as long 
as he could, and one day, when the beaver was taking 
his daily wash, he flung a bucketful o’ water in Gloos- 
cap’s face. This made the old fellow so mad he 
caught up a handful of the nearest missiles he could 
And, and throwed ’em at the beaver’s head. The 
stone missiles the god threw are the five islands over 
yon, and they hit the beaver so hard he ne’er so 
much as quivered arter he was struck. Seeing he 
had killed his inemy so easily, Glooscap broke down 
the dam between Blow-me-down and the home o’ the 
beaver, letting the water o’ the lake out with a ter- 
rific noise down through the Narrows, so no beaver 
has ever taken up his abode in the basin since. 

‘‘ Another inemy o’ the god was the moose, which 
was a powerful creatur’ then, going about and devour- 
ing everything it came across. Its stride was so 
mighty it could step from mountain top to mountain 
top, and at its coming everything shrank into the 
earth. Meeting him one day, as he was storming 
abroad, the god hit him with his hand atween the 
eyes, and Mister Moose quickly shrunk down to his 
present size, and in humble acknowledgment of his 
downfall began to eat the green boughs o’ trees. 
And this has been its food ever since. 


THE FOREST FORGE. 


23 


‘‘Glooscap overcame other inemies in sich ways, 
until he was able to go about his business in peace. 
Another leetle tale which I remember o' him speaks 
well for his intentions. A village o’ people was at 
one time left without a warrior to defend it, all hav- 
ing been called away on the war-path. Some of their 
inemies, hearing that only ol’ men, women, and chil- 
dren were left, thought it would be a good time to 
pay an ol’ debt, by wiping the whole place out. So 
the war-party drew nigh the place, and seeing ’em 
coming, and knowing the peril o’ the homes o’ some 
o’ his favourite people, Glooscap tied stones on the 
feet o’ the invaders. This made ’em so tired they were 
glad to lie down and rest just afore they reached 
the village, saying to ’emselves they would wake just 
afore dawn and sweep down on the town like an 
eagle on its prey. But while they slept Glooscap let 
fly an arrow from his mighty bow right into the tops 
o’ the trees o’er their heads, when a terrible white 
frost fell upon them, closing their eyes in that sleep 
which knows no waking this side o’ the happy 
hunting-grounds. 

^‘So far man and animals had spoken the same 
language, and dwelt much together. But the grow- 
ing wickedness o’ the four-footed creatur’s so dis- 
pleased Glooscap that he called a mighty council, 
when all the beasts o’ the forests, all the Indian 
hunters, ol’ men, women, and children met together. 


24 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


He then told 'em he was going away, but that some 
day he would come back to take 'em with him to the 
great sky-wigwam o' his father. Then a strange 
thing happened. When he broke up the council, 
dismissing 'em all with a wave o' his hand, lo ! each 
kind o' animal spoke a different language, and there 
was, too, many tongues spoken by the people. So 
it has been ever since. The Indians are still waiting 
for his coming, and the animals look forward to the 
time when all shall again meet in harmony, and con- 
verse one with another. All o' which I hoi' is a 
pretty conceit, lad. 

‘‘ But the birch has flown even faster'n my tongue, 
for here we are at the mouth o' the Gaspereau. 
Them cottages scattered o’er the meadows in this 
vicinity are the abiding-places o' the habitants^ a 
people o' a different blood from the Acadians, but 
this settlement is considered to be a part o' Grand 
Pre, whither we are bound. We can ne'er do 
better'n to run up the creek a leetle way, and, leav- 
ing our canoe on the bank, perambulate o'er to the 
other settlement." 

Five minutes later the twain had run in ashore, 
and pulling their light craft up into a clump of 
willows, started across the valley toward the village 
of Grand Pr6, considered to be the crown of Acadia. 
Their course led for some time through the growth 
of beech and maple which skirted the ridge of the 


THE FOREST FORGE. 


25 


Gaspereau, and stretched away toward the south 
farther than the eye could reach. In the thick 
woods the beams of the moon penetrated feebly, so 
that it was quite dark along their pathway, as they 
advanced with the stealthy steps of true woodsmen, 
until they paused at last near the edge of the 
growth. 

‘‘How still it is, Woodranger,'’ said Rob, in a low 
tone, as if impressed deeply by the solemn silence. 
“Seems as if there was no one besides us nearer 
than yonder cottages half a mile away.'' 

“An amazing speech for you, Rob, who is no 
novice in the ways o' natur'. There be some one at 
our elbows." 

Though there was no indication of alarm in the 
simple statement, Rob Rogers started, and looked 
hastily around., as if he expected to see some one 
step from out of the shadows into his presence. 
There was no living creature to be seen, or any sign 
of life. The Woodranger smiled, saying : 

“ Dost think me dissembling, lad List an ear to 
that sound. If there be not a human hand 'pon that 
hammer I'll ne'er prate o' what in all consistency I 
can ne'er know." 

As the Woodranger gave utterance, in a low tone, 
to his speech, the low ting-a-ling of two metals 
brought sharply together reached their ears. The 
sound came from his right, and the boy ranger 


26 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


turned quickly in that direction, when he noticed for 
the first time that the view was cut off a few rods 
away by a dense growth of underbrush. 

“ Chide not thyself, lad, that you let your eyes for 
once stop your ears. If my memory has not taken 
to the cunning o’ deceit, yon thicket o’ ragged robin 
is the shop o’ Le Noir the gunsmith, whose ways seem 
to me like his face, dark. At any rate, we should 
ne’er be faithful to the trust reposed in us by William 
should we cross his path without due discretion. 
Mebbe it will do no harm to sort o’ look over the 
premises in secret, seeing it must be some uncommon 
object which keeps the smith at his forge at this 
hour.” 

Without waiting for a reply from his companion, the 
Woodranger advanced with his swift, silent steps in 
the direction indicated by the sounds. Rob, vexed 
that he had for once been outdone by his companion 
in woodcraft, followed as rapidly and noiselessly as he. 
In the forest it was too dark to see an object with any 
distinctness, but they had not gone far before the 
glimmer of a light shimmered through the dense 
undergrowth ahead. 

The gray tracing of a road winding through the 
woods was now to be seen, but the WoodraJager 
avoided this and kept to their left, until their prog- 
ress was stopped by the mass of shrubbery. Through 
this obstruction struggled the glimmer of a light. The 


THE FOREST FORGE. 


27 


Woodranger parted the foliage with one hand, when 
he and his companion gazed on a scene of striking 
effect. 

The Woodranger had pulled aside the shrubbery 
at a place where an aperture in the rough wall of the 
building had once been a window, but which the over- 
hanging vines had now completely draped, to the 
exclusion of sunlight and air. The place upon which 
they looked was the smoke-begrimed smithy of 
Le Noir the gunmaker, now lighted by the fire on 
the forge and a torch stuck in a crevice of the stone 
chimney. This light was adjusted to shine to the 
best advantage upon the anvil placed near the forge. 
Scattered about on the dusty floor was a miscellaneous 
array of tools, scraps of iron, horse-shoes, and other 
belongings of a blacksmith. The wide door on the 
opposite side of the smithy was open, a refreshing 
breeze from the surrounding forest filling the shop, 
while a wide sheen of moonlight fell upon the floor. 


CHAPTER III. 


AN OLD GAME. 

While the Woodranger and Robert Rogers were 
paddling leisurely up the Strait of Minas, the boys 
of Grand Pre were pitching horseshoes in friendly 
rivalry with the youth of a neighbouring village. The 
ring of metal striking metal, the merry shouts of 
triumph, and the medley of boyish voices in argu- 
ment over some disputed point told that the game 
was a spirited one. 

The playground was the wide lane leading from the 
single street of the town, under an arcade of apple- 
trees, to the picturesque home of the Acadian farmer, 
Benedict le Fontaine. To the right of the pitchers, 
as they stood with the slanting rays of the westering 
sun falling over their shoulders, could be seen the 
long row of cottages making the village of Grand Pre, 
the white walls and thatched roofs in most cases 
nearly hidden by embowering willows and apple 
orchards. To the south, behind these groves, and 
beyond the cluster of trees affording shade and pro- 
tection to the buildings and grounds of Le Fontaine, 
28 


AN OLD GAME. 


29 


lay the wide-spreading meadows which had given 
name to the town. Every foot of these fertile acres 
had been rescued from the hungry sea held at bay by 
a far-reaching line of dikes, whose gray wall could be 
seen in the distance, while beyond that rose and fell 
the fitful tide of Minas Basin. 

A short distance apart from the youthful players 
was another gathering, over which hung a spell of 
repose in better keeping with the lazy atmosphere. 
The individuals comprising this company were a 
representative body of men upon whose countenances 
care at all times sat lightly. On this particular 
occasion, their hay-bins well filled, the corn in its 
milk, the flax-fields reddening in the summer sun, 
between the two seasons of harvest, their sole duty 
to look after the fattening flocks, an hour that might 
otherwise have hung heavily was whiled away in light 
story-telling, drinking cider flip, or watching the airy 
gyrations of the luck-bringing horseshoe flung by the 
hand of a youthful pleasure-seeker. 

That it was eminently a respectable party was 
shown by the presence of a tall, sedate, dark-robed 
man, who, regardless of his clerical calling, laughed 
with the merriest and cheered with the loudest over 
the skilful manoeuvres of the players. He was Father 
Fafard, the village cur^ whom all knew and loved. 
Near him reclined on a rustic bench Jean Hebert, 
the notary public. Another, as dear to the hearts of 


30 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


his companions as those named, was the owner of 
this quaint, pastoral home, a middle-aged farmer 
whom old and young were accustomed to address, in 
the familiar manner of these plain people, as “ Good 
Benedict/' He was the same our inspired Long- 
fellow immortalised in poetic story. Others were 
present who were scarcely of less account, so it was 
a very respectable party drawn hither, enjoying alter- 
nately the boyish tournament and the hospitality of 
the generous-hearted farmer. 

Their surroundings were typical of an Acadian 
home. The cottage, a type of Norman architecture, 
with low, broad eaves overhanging the walls by a 
wide margin, dormer windows, and projecting gables, 
stood on a slight eminence, so that it commanded an 
extensive panorama of country. Seen through the 
openings of the network of woodbine overhanging 
them, the walls were white, except the casings of 
door and windows, which had been given a coat of 
dusky brown by a liquid mixture of ash and lime. In 
front of the dwelling, with its top overarching the 
roof, '"stood the ‘‘family maple," a huge, gnarled sugar- 
maple claimed to have been growing there when the 
first house at Grand Pre had been built. Under its 
thickly matted branches the family had often passed 
the heated period of the day and eaten their evening 
meal, while here Benedict delighted most to enter- 
tain his friends. Against the rugged trunk he had 


AN OLD GAME. 


31 


arranged a shelf to hold pipes, tobacco, mugs, and a 
quaintly shaped pitcher, an heirloom in the family, 
and usually filled with the best cider julep to be 
found in that land of the red apple. Rustic benches 
were ranged about for the comfort of the guests who 
preferred them to reposing at full length, as many 
were now, on the deep green sward of velvety soft- 
ness. By the side of a younger maple, a short dis- 
tance away, a box had been placed, containing the 
image of the blessed Mary, and a drawer to hold 
offerings for the poor. 

A little below these trees was the orchard, loaded 
with the season^s fruit, already taking on the pink and 
gold of the harvest hues. Down through this invit- 
ing grove a footpath ran as straight as a string from 
the door to a spring of refreshing water. A little 
removed from the eastern end of the cottage was a 
row of beehives, overhung with a drapery of melon 
and cucumber vines. Under the shade of a brown 
cherry-tree a hen had burrowed into the cool earth, 
while half a dozen tiny heads peeped shyly from 
under her expansive wings. By the stone step, with 
his great red tongue out, and his sides working 
furiously, as he panted under his warm coat, lay the 
house dog. Over his head, nailed upon the casing of 
the door, with two or three rusty, twisted nails left in 
their holes, was the horseshoe of good luck. In this 
case its charm could not be refuted. 


32 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


A little to the rear, and placed so as to protect the 
cottage from the storms of winter, were the barns 
and folds for the sheep, the deep bins of the former 
filled to overflowing with hay and barley. In the 
yard were to be seen the rude farm implements of 
the time, and the two-wheeled wains with their wide 
rims and wooden axles. In one corner were placed 
one above another the short sleds used in winters. 
There were also ploughs of ancient pattern, with 
straight handles and heavy, awkward beams, harrows, 
and smaller tools used upon the farm. 

A steep staircase on the outside of the barn led to 
the corn loft now open, ready to receive the growing 
crop as soon as it should be harvested. To one side 
of this, sheltered by the wide, overhanging eaves, 
was a row of dove-cotes, from which at present 
came no sign of life, though many a white, blue, or 
yellow bunch of soft feathers bespoke the presence 
of the peaceful inmates. Concealed somewhere in 
the odorous hay was a shrill-toned August cricket, 
whose piercing notes told that he, at least, of all in 
this pastoral scene was keenly alive to his love of 
song and work. 

In the midst of this a lazy good humour reigned, 
broken now and then by some outburst from the 
boys or the shrill cries of the cricket, until the host, 
placing the drinking-mug back upon its accustomed 
rest, asked of one of his guests : 


AN OLD GAME. 


33 


What hast caught your alert eye, Michel ? 

“ Only a speck on the horizon, good Benedict, but 
so rapidly has it grown that I fear me it broods a 
storm.” 

At this several of the party looked in the direction 
of the setting sun, to discover what had escaped their 
notice so far, — a gray fleece hanging between the 
earth and the sky, too low to belong to the one, too 
high to be a part of the other. Presently Jean Hebert 
explained the mystery. 

It looks to me like a cloud of dust flung up from 
the dry road by the feet of a flying horse. Am I not 
right, good Benedict } It is coming rapidly nearer, — 
some one is riding a mad chase.” 

Who rides a steed like that ruins a good horse,” 
replied Benedict, who, on all occasions, seemed to 
be the oracle of the village. But whoever he be, 
no man could ride like that who was not capable of 
looking out for his own welfare. Go on, good 
Gabriel, and tell us more of the Order of Good 
Cheer that reigned at Port Royal in the days of 
Louis the Great.” 

Meanwhile two comely youths had stepped forth 
from among the young rivals, to struggle for the 
honours of the pastime in which they were engaged. 
These two, the objects of all eyes now, presented 
a marked contrast in personal appearance. The 
older of these, by name Michel Vallie, who lived on 


34 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the Habitant beyond the deep-set wood of the Gas- 
pereau, was a stalwart youth of eighteen, with dark 
features, flashing black eyes, and an air of confidence 
which promised to stand him well in the trial to 
follow. 

His contestant was Alexander Briant, the appren- 
tice of Basil le Noir, the gunmaker of Acadia, whose 
smithy stood under the edge of the beech wood on 
the road leading to the west country. Alex was at 
least two years younger than Michel, though his 
slender figure was quite as tall as the other’s. He 
had blue eyes and a light skin, which together told 
that he, at least, did not come from those of Norman 
blood. In truth, his parents had come from Scot- 
land, but if not of the same race as his associates, his 
frankness and open-hearted generosity had won for 
him a host of friends in Grand Pre. If less bulky 
in frame than his rival, his bare arms showed muscles 
hardened by work, which is the secret and power of 
success. 

The score now stood at forty-two for the boys of 
Grand Pre, with forty-five credited to their rivals 
from the Habitant. As the count was for fifty the 
home team must rely solely on young Alex, if they 
were to win the tournament. 

It had been the rule that each competing pair 
should toss up to see who would pitch the first dis- 
cus, and the one gaining the second position must 


AN OLD GAME, 


35 


throw also the third quoit, thus leaving him who 
had tossed the first shoe the privilege of closing 
their personal contest, when their scores were added 
to their respective teams. This plan had proved 
very satisfactory. 

It fell to Alex to lead this time, and, stepping to 
the home meg, he sent his first shoe descrying a 
circle through the air before his friends or rival had 
been quick enough to follow its airy flight. So 
well directed was the discus that it fell just inside 
the goal, and, slipping through the light sand, 
stopped only when it had fairly encircled the stout 
stake. 

‘‘A ringer — counts three!'' cried half a dozen 
spectators in the same breath, and cheering awoke 
the laboured silence of the previous moment. The 
score of the players now stood even at forty-five. 
But there was a chance that Michel might undo the 
feat of Alex, as a removal of this shoe would take 
the count from the owner's credit and place it to 
that of the successful rival. 

‘‘ Michel surely wins," cried an admirer. See, 
he carries his luck shoes. Where now are your 
boasts, you boys of Grand Pre } " 

As soon as the cheering had subsided the young 
habitan advanced to the meg, and poised himself 
slowly and carefully for his first throw. The silence 
of the spectators was broken by the discordant 


36 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


scream of a jay perched in the top of an apple-tree. 
The cry coming at the moment when the pitcher 
sent his shoe flying on its way, caused him to give 
an undue jerk to his elbow, which caused the discus 
to fly wide of its goal. He claimed the bird had 
startled him, and asked the privilege of repeating the 
attempt, which was finally granted. 

Descrying a beautiful circle in the air the second 
time, the homely discus, turning like a wheel in 
space, dropped beside the pin, and pitting its corks 
firmly into the ground, lay where it had fallen, fairly 
touching the meg. There was no cheering, for the 
result had not met the expectations of his friends, 
though the effort had not been an entire failure. 

The second shoe, spun from his experienced hand, 
went whirling through space, and settled at just the 
right angle to drop over beside the meg, striking 
Alex’s shoe with a dull ring as it tipped up against 
the meg on top of both the others. 

There was cheering then, though the Habitant 
champion still lacked two points of a victory. Alex 
could not hope to win, they reasoned. 

Alex now took his position, while his companions 
held their breath. The cheering ended, and silence 
again reigned, as his last shoe sped on its mission. 
The thrower stood like a statue in his tracks, until 
the gyrating quoit struck the goal with a loud ring 
of metal. The two shoes of Michel were sent hurt- 


AN OLD GAME, 


37 


ling in opposite directions, while that of Alex settled 
squarely about the meg, and remained there. 

All previous cheering was outdone now. The 
boys of Grand Pre were exultant. It was two or 
three minutes before the referee could make himself 
heard to announce : 

A double ringer for Alex Briant, counts six ; the 
taking of his opponent’s count, three ; in all, nine ; 
makes fifty-one for the boys of Grand Pre, and they 
have won the game.” 


CHAPTER IV. 


NEWS OF WAR. 

The tumult of applause which followed the an- 
nouncement of the referee in the game of the boys, 
as well as the most interesting point in the story 
being told under the maple, was suddenly checked 
by the clatter of horse’s hoofs, and the appearance 
of a horseman coming upon the scene at breakneck 
speed. At sight of the wondering throngs of boys 
and men, he turned from the main street and came 
along the lane without slowing up the speed of his 
foam-flecked steed. Stopping the furious pace of 
the animal with an abruptness which nearly threw it 
from its feet, and which threatened to unseat him, he 
cried, in a loud voice : 

‘‘ News from Port Royal ! " A regiment of the 
English have been surprised and killed or captured. 
The town is now at the mercy of our soldiers. 
Terms of capitulation are being drawn up. Acadie 
is free ! ” 

* This name had been changed to Annapolis-Royal by the Eng- 
lish, but the French still clung to the original Port Royal. 

38 


NEWS OF WAR, 


39 


The listeners stood with open-mouthed wonder, 
unable to credit their hearing, or, even if thinking 
they had heard aright, at a loss to account for the 
newcomer's wild alarm. 

‘‘ Hold, sir ! " commanded Benedict le Fontaine, 
by far the most calm of the crowd ; prithee, what 
means this speech } " 

‘‘That the triumph of France has come at last. 
Ay, good Benedict, ere the frosts of autumn shall 
have blighted yon cucumber vine the lilies of Louis 
will once more wave over Acadie." 

“ God forbid that the meadows of Grand Pr6 shall 
ever again be deluged with blood, as they have been 
many times," declared the farmer, fervently. 

“Amen," said Father Fafard, solemnly, crossing 
his hands on his breast. 

“ What ! be gone so soon ? " asked Benedict, as the 
rider gathered up his reins. 

“ I speed the glorious news to the habitans'' 

“ If thou must ride on, have a drink of julep," 
handing him the well-filled mug, which the other 
seized and drained at a single quaff. Then, waving 
his hand to the half-frightened spectators, he touched 
smartly his jaded horse, and the next moment was rid- 
ing swiftly in the direction of the Gaspereau district. 

While these peace-loving people, unable to com- 
prehend the tidings he had told, stood watching the 
messenger of war, as he sped on his merciless errand. 


40 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the clear, solemn notes of the Angelus fell upon the 
hushed scene. 

The last peal of the evening bell had died away, 
and the men and boys were beginning to disperse in 
groups to talk over the afternoon's proceedings, when 
some one pulled at Alex’s arm, and, turning about, he 
discovered beside him a pretty girl a few years his 
junior. 

‘‘ Oh, Alex ! ” she said, in a low tone, ‘‘ your father 
is at the shop. I saw him as I was coming past. He 
wants you to come to him at once. I am afraid he is 
dying. He charged me to tell you to come alone.” 

I will go at once, Evangeline, trusting it is not 
as bad as you think. You were very kind to do this 
errand.” 

Without stopping to make any explanations, Alex 
started toward Le Noir’s smithy, leaving the others to 
think he had received a call to work. As has been 
stated, Basil the blacksmith or gunmaker, for he plied 
his craft with equal adeptness, whether it was shoe- 
ing a horse or putting together the intricate parts of 
a gun, had his shop under cover of the woods, where 
the jays sang their sauciest songs and the squirrels 
played their boldest pranks, on good terms with this 
man of a warlike trade. His shop was known as the 
rendezvous of many of the discontented sons of New 
France, who fretted at the fact of being under 
British rule, while themselves claiming to be French- 


NEWS OF WAR. 


41 


men. Le Noir was of Basque descent himself, but 
a hater of the English. His father had been a sort 
of lord over the region of the Canard, but English 
supremacy had taken his possessions from him, and 
he died leaving his wife and son poor, with a heritage 
of hatred for the British. 

No sooner had Alex come in sight of the smithy, 
than he saw, lying across the grimy threshold, a man 
whom he recognised as his father, who had been 
away from home for over a month. 

What has happened, father ” he cried, anxiously. 

Upon hearing his voice, the fallen man moved a 
little, saying, in a husky voice : 

I am wounded, Alex. I was shot by a party of 
French while trying to carry a message of the danger 
of the English to the governor. I am hunted as a 
spy by the French. I must get home as soon as I 
can, and before I am seen.'' 

‘‘ I will help you, father. Ay, here comes Basil ; 
he will help. He has come home before — " 

‘‘No — no, my son, he must not see me. You do 
not understand. He favours the French. I am 
hunted as an enemy to them, — a spy. Is Basil 
coming to the shop } " 

“ Yes, father," replied the now frightened Alex. 
“What shall I do.?" 

“Conceal me somewhere. I cannot go another 
step, and to be found here would be death." 


42 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Alex proved himself a brave boy, and, though for 
a moment taken aback at his father’s startling 
announcement, his presence of mind quickly returned. 
Looking swiftly around, he saw that there was ample 
room behind the forge to conceal his father from the 
searching gaze of the gunmaker. Surely the other 
would not long remain at the smithy at this late hour. 
As soon as the smith should go home he could return 
for his father. He hurriedly told his plan, and then 
lent such assistance as he could toward helping the 
fugitive to a place of concealment. The latter could 
not suppress a cry of pain, as he moved. 

‘‘The wound has broken out afresh, now I have 
moved. But it will stop bleeding as soon as I am 
quiet again. Work quickly, my son, or it will be 
too late.’’ 

Even as he spoke he reached the dark nook 
selected, and then sank heavily upon the blackened 
mass of dirt, cinders, and iron filings accumulated 
in the dingy corner. Alex had barely time to cover 
his lower limbs with the debris, and throw a couple 
of old aprons over his head and body, before the 
burly form of Basil le Noir appeared in the door- 
way. His first words seemed to indicate to Alex 
that he mistrusted something of what had taken 
place, though it may have been only his imagination. 

“Alone, Alex.? Has no one been here since I 
went away .? ” 


NEWS OF WAR. 


43 


Pierre called soon after noon to have a shoe reset 
that his horse had thrown/’ replied the young smith. 
^‘No one calling after him, I took the liberty, as you 
said I might, to leave the shop long enough to pitch 
shoes with the Grand Pre boys against the habitans!' 

And won a handsome victory from them, eh, lad ? 
You are a bright fellow, Alex, and I hold no grudge 
against you, let them say what they will of your 
father. Your day’s work is over, but on your way 
home I wish you would find Jean le Craft, and give 
him my compliments, telling him to call at my house 
three hours hence. Mind you this is for his ear only. 
Now hasten. I will remain at the smithy until I 
have finished that new gun for Indian John, though 
I have to do it by forge-light.” 

Here was a dilemma Alex had not counted upon, 
and he hesitated, not knowing what to do. Should 
he refuse to perform the slight duty asked of him by 
his master, he would at once arouse the suspicious 
nature of Le Noir, while he did not like to leave the 
shop for a moment. But he quickly decided that it 
was best for him to do the errand, and return as 
speedily as possible, with the hope that his father 
would not be discovered during his absence. Accord- 
ingly, though not without great misgivings, he left 
the smithy. After watching him out of sight, the 
gunsmith started toward the forge. 


CHAPTER V. 


THE SON OF A SPY. 

Alex Briant had not been gone long on his 
errand, and Le Noir had barely fanned the forge fire 
into renewed life, when the Woodranger and Rob 
Rogers appeared at the opening in the shrubbery 
behind the smithy, and fixed their gaze upon the 
owner of this primitive shop. At that moment he 
was standing near the anvil, his left elbow resting on 
his hip, while he poised in his hand on a level with 
his eye a newly made gun. Holding it steadily in 
that position, he closely scanned both stock and 
barrel, as if giving the weapon a final examination. 

He was a tall, broad-shouldered man, with a heavy 
mass of coal-black hair, beard, and beetling eyebrows, 
which met in a snarl over his nose. Evidently he 
was well pleased with his work, for a smile suffused 
his dark countenance, and his steel-gray eyes sparkled 
with a look of triumph. But his pleasure was short- 
lived, for a moment later a shadow fell across the 
glare of the forge, as a newcomer, as tall, or taller 
than he, and clothed in black from head to foot, 
paused in front of him. 


44 


THE SON OF A SPY, 


45 


Although the gunmaker was taken by surprise, the 
Woodranger had seen this stranger as he had stepped 
silently over the worn threshold, and touching Rob 
lightly, whispered in his ear : 

‘‘The Dark Abb4 and French spy/' 

This strange individual, whose tall figure would 
have been of still greater height had it not been for 
a stoop of the shoulders, was of swarthy complexion, 
though not as dark as the gunmaker. His face was 
cleanly shaven, the roots of his black beard giving an 
undue darkness to his skin. His countenance was 
long, the jaws massive, the lips thin, with an expres- 
sion of cruelty rather than sanctity hovering over 
them. His outer garment was a black cassock, 
girthed up for marching through the forest. 

He smiled at the gunmaker' s display of fright at 
his sudden appearance, saying : 

“Forgive me, Basil le Noir, if I caught you off 
your guard. A guilty mind needs time to put on 
its armour before meeting a faithful follower of the 
cross." 

“ I must own you did surprise me, good father, the 
more to my shame," acknowledged the gunmaker, 
showing that he felt his discomfiture more than he 
cared to own. “ What cheer bring you now } " 

At this juncture, unobserved by either of the 
men, Alex Briant appeared upon the scene. He 
stopped near a bench on the opposite side of the 


46 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


shop, standing as if transfixed at the sight of the 
two men. 

‘‘ It is time to act,’’ replied the Dark Abbe, and the 
simple speech must have been very significant to the 
other, for he trembled and turned his gaze toward 
the floor. “ It looks as if you, too, realised it, else 
why does the gunmaker of Acadie ply his craft with 
so much industry at this hour } The Angelus some- 
time since ceased its evening notes.” 

As Le Noir made no reply, he continued, after a 
brief pause : 

Does the heart of Basil the craftsman shrink at 
the thought of duty.'^ The French are triumphant 
at Port Royal. It is time the heretics were driven 
from the valley of the Gaspereau. Is there reason to 
doubt your fidelity to the noble cause 

Basil le Noir has armed more Micmacs than any 
other man in New France,” replied the gunsmith, 
cautiously. 

‘‘ Forgive me, good Basil ; I doubt not your heart 
is as true as the guns you have made to help us poot 
down-trodden people to live under British rule. The 
Micmacs are still faithful. If the sons of Grand Pre 
are half as true, it will not be long ere the golden 
lilies of France will again wave by the side of the 
cross over Acadie.” 

The gunmaker still held the unfinished gun poised 
in his left hand, as if the limb had become rigid, and 


THE SON OF A SPY. 


47 


his steely eye now looked the priest squarely in 
the face, though his voice quavered slightly as he 
demanded : 

Hast come recently from Quebec ? ’’ 

Straight as the crow flies, good Basil. And there 
to-night the eyes of the nobles of New France are 
fixed upon the sons of Acadie.’' 

It was not Basil le Noir's nature to yield easily. If 
a moment before he had feared this man before him, 
and trembled at his glance, he had now recovered his 
usual stubbornness, and he said, to the abbe’s surprise : 

In Quebec the crushed people groan and writhe 
under the taxes and burdens heaped upon them by 
Intendant Bigot, the chief of thieves and robbers. 
Woe to France as long as she has such minions 
feeding upon her colonies.’’ 

The Dark Abbe crossed himself piously, while he 
uttered a groan of despair, saying, in a sharp, rasping 
voice : 

‘‘ God forbid that I should hear such speech from 
Basil le Noir. The best of us cannot serve two 
masters, sir; you must choose between France and 
England. In other words, you are either a neutral, 
bound hand and foot to the British, or a Gunbearer, 
who dares to say ‘ I will be a freeman.’ ” 

Why need a peaceful people meddle, sir } Can- 
not the Acadiens till their fields and tend their flocks 
in peace } There was no talk of war — ” 


48 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Beware of treasonable utterances/' broke in the 
priest. 

‘‘ Until France made it/' completed Basil, with a 
rising inflection. If that sounds of treason it is the 
truth." 

‘‘I never dreamed," said the abbe, trying hard to 
conceal the anger which threatened to break forth at 
any moment, ‘‘ that Basil le Noir would need to be 
given a lesson along with the fools of Grand Pre." 

Say not that which will anger me. Father le 
Petite," replied Basil, who was measuring his ground 
carefully, and calculating just how far it would do 
for him to go. ‘‘ I have not expressed any love for 
the British, whom I hate and detest for the wrong 
they have done me and my family. If I have grown 
lukewarm for my motherland, it is because she has 
been unfaithful to her children. France would make 
a catspaw of us to pull her chestnuts out of the fire." 

‘‘Rash words," replied Le Petite. “Let me whis- 
per you that which will show you the folly of your 
speech. The noble Bigot and his associates have 
already a plan on foot by which they expect to anni- 
hilate every Englishman in New England. To aid 
in this glorious work, at this moment there is a fleet 
of French ships coming to this shore. Ay, soon all 
this country will be New France, from the Banks of 
Newfoundland to the Great River of the West.' 


* The Mississippi. 


THE SON OF A SPY, 


49 


Then you will learn that a true Frenchman never 
forgets ! But who am I, but a humble instrument 
of a higher power ? Perhaps I am overjealous, but 
it is my dream that Acadie shall yet be restored to 
France, to shine as the fairest jewel in her crown. 
You and I, Basil le Noir, can be the leaders in 
that grand undertaking, and reap the golden fruit that 
comes with success. To-night your sincerity shall be 
tested. I will know ere midnight if you be true or 
false to France.’' 

The gun maker simply bowed to this direct speech, 
and Le Petite was unable to read his thoughts. While 
given to speaking in riddles himself, nothing provoked 
him more than to have others put on a mask. Finally, 
Le Noir said : 

There are no truer hearts in all Acadie than those 
which burn at the Canard with hatred for the British.” 

‘‘ Spoken like a true son of Basque,” declared the 
abb6, quickly, the frown instantly driven from his 
dark features. ‘‘ Can you say as much for the men 
of Grand Pr6 ? ” 

‘‘Gossipers say that such men as Le Fontaine are 
growing fat and lazy on the easy-going Englishmen. 
And you know a well-filled stomach makes a servant 
good-natured toward his master.” 

‘‘Well said, good Basil. Hast heard of others 
whose stomachs have been petted rather than their 
minds ? ” 


50 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


“Fewer visit me than formerly. It may be they 
do not like my company, or my wares may be less to 
their liking.'' 

“The fools ! " hissed, rather than spoke, the priest. 
“ They cannot be given a lesson too soon. The time 
has come to strike the first blow. Let Main-a-Dieu 
be the object. Do you understand } " 

“When } " asked Le Noir, by way of reply. 

“Four days, or rather nights, hence.” 

“ It will require all of that time to reach the place, 
even by water.” 

“ Then there is more need of a prompt start. The 
faithful of Chebucto ' are on hand, and impatient to 
be on the way. I shall hold you accountable that 
twelve faithful men from Grand Pre are at the Isth- 
mus at midnight. They had better be disguised in 
the paint and leather leggings of their allies, who will 
not fail them. A failure on your part or theirs 
means — ” 

If the Dark Abb6 left his sentence unfinished, it 
was to make its impression felt the more keenly by 
the other. Basil le Noir knew the thought completed 
would say : 

“ The desolation of your own and companions' 
homes ! ” 

* A rendezvous of the Micmac Indians at that time. Five years 
later a party of English colonists took possession of the place, and 
changed the name of the town to Halifax. 


THE SON OF A SPY, 5 I 

His errand performed, the Dark Abbe was about 
to leave the smithy, when he discovered Alex, who 
had remained a listener to the foregoing dialogue 
until it was too late for him to escape without being 
seen. Basil le Noir saw his apprentice at the same 
time as Le Petite, and his breath came quick and 
furious, as he demanded : 

‘‘ How long have you been there, Alex } '' 

Realising the meaning which might be put to his 
answer, Alex replied, guardedly : 

A brief while, good Basil. I forgot the hammer 
and I had to come back.'’ 

‘‘ And listened to what has been said," exclaimed 
the Dark Abbe, ‘‘that which none but a true son of 
France should hear. Canst vouch for him, Basil le 
Noir.?" 

“ I have seen nothing amiss in the youth since he 
came six months ago to learn something of my craft." 

“ Out upon you for such a foolish speech. It does 
not answer my question. Do you vouch for him in 
this extremity, Basil le Noir .? " 

“ I vouch for no one, sir." 

“Wisely said, sir gunmaker. He is not of the 
blood of Acadie .? " 

“ He is of Irish or Scotch heritage, I believe. I 
never took the trouble to find out. His home is in 
Grand Pre." 

“The Scotch are no better than the English. I 


52 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


am amazed at you, Basil le Noir ! '' Turning to the 
trembling boy, he demanded : 

‘‘ What is your name ? I do not remember seeing 
you before, and I intend to keep well acquainted with 
the good people of Grand Pre.” 

‘^Alexander Briant, sir. My father — 

Is Wallace Briant ! exclaimed the Dark Abbe, 
his dark countenance suddenly becoming as black as 
the sooted roof overhead, ‘‘the traitor — the spy! 
If he is living at this moment his scalp is worth a 
good fifty pounds at Chebucto.*' 

“ My father — 

“ Stop ! ” fairly roared the priest, his face now 
crimson with rage. “An eavesdropper is no better 
than a spy, and a spy is always an eavesdropper. Is 
it possible, Le Noir, you do not know the judgment 
set against him in Quebec } A coat of tar and feath- 
ers and a roast at the stake awaits him as soon as he 
can be caught, and that time is not far off. At Port 
Royal I learned the Micmacs were on his track. 
Not a month ago the audacious fool dared to enter 
one of the good Intendant’s banquets, and there 
learned many secrets dangerous to the welfare of 
Bigot, should they get to the British. Now this son 
of a spy has possessed himself of secrets which make 
him our deadly enemy I '' 

“ I hope you do not blame me, good father. 
Truly — ’’ 


THE SON OF A SPY. 


S3 


‘‘He was under your roof/' retorted the abb^, 
quick to improve the opportunity to show his power 
over the gunmaker. “ I shall look to you to see that 
he is cared for ! " 

The words conveyed less than the look Le Petite 
gave Le Noir, and the latter shrank back, as he said : 

“ Not that, good father ! He is so young. Let 
him swear he will never tell what he has heard, if he 
has heard aught that is dangerous. You will do that, 
Alex.?" 

“I pledged myself to Father Fafard only last Sab- 
bath to be a true son of Acadie," replied Alex. “ I 
am very sorry for what I could not avoid." 

“ A fig for that. If you are a true son of Acadie, 
you will answer me a question — only one. You 
shall go free if you will do that, and promise never 
to repeat what you may have overheard here. Will 
you do it, boy " 

“If it be such a question as I can answer, sir." 

“You can, and shall^'' with a strong accent on the 
last word, which did not escape Alex. “Where is 
your father ? " 

The abruptness of the question gave Alex a tremor 
of fear, but with this came the thought that his father 
had not been discovered, and it gave him courage to 
reply with a firmness which surprised himself : 

“I cannot tell you, sir. He is away from home, 
and has been for some months." 


54 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


I have reason for knowing that. Will you tell 
where he is ” 

Alex deemed it most prudent for him to remain 
silent, while, for the first time, he calculated his 
chances of escape by flight. He realised that his 
situation was becoming desperate. The Dark Abbe 
was known to him by reputation as a man who held 
great power, whether for good or ill, over the inhabi- 
tants of Grand Pre. Basil le Noir, while considered 
an odd, peculiar man, had always been ver}^ friendly 
toward him, and he believed he could rely on his 
friendship in this extremity. So he decided to meet 
the worst with a brave front, determined not to be- 
tray his father. 

You can tell, and you shall be made to, if you do 
not feel like doing it voluntarily,’' declared Le Petite. 
‘‘Basil, I call upon you to lend your assistance. 
Bring the fellow over to this cleared spot, and under 
that beam.” 

The gunmaker hesitated but a moment. A flash 
of the bead-like eyes and a scowl on the dark 
features warned him that his safety demanded 
obedience. Seizing Alex stoutly by the shoulder, 
he dragged him to the spot pointed out by the 
Dark Abb6. 

While he was doing this the abb6 picked up two 
small chains, each about ten feet in length. He then 
fastened them to Alex’s thumbs, and tossed the ends 



“ ALEX 


WAS LIFTED UPWARD UNTIL ONLY HIS TOES 
TOUCHED THE FLOOR.” 






THE SON OF A SPY. 


55 


over che beam, which he could easily reach with his 
hand. 

Take hold of these, Basil, and with your strong 
arm raise him up. We will soon fetch the truth 
from the obstinate puppy.*’ 

The horrible intentions of the Dark Abbe were 
now evident, even to the frightened boy, who began 
to beg for mercy. 

<‘Tell us the truth about your father,” was the 
grim reply. A word will save you all torture, 
and us further trouble. Will you do it.^^” 

Father is not at home. More I cannot — ” 

A likely story,” sneered the priest. But we 
will get the truth from you. Pull on the chains, friend 
Basil ; pull until I tell you to stop.” 

Then the gunmaker plied his great strength to the 
chains, which slipped slowly over the beam, while Alex, 
struggling to free himself, was lifted upward until 
only his toes touched the floor. 


CHAPTER VI. 


% 

RESCUE OF ALEX. 

It will not be supposed that the Woodranger or 
Robert Rogers had lost any part of the preceding 
scene. Every word of the Dark Abbe had been 
listened to with intense interest, while the sharp 
thrusts and parries of Basil le Noir had brought a 
look of disgust to the countenance of the forester, as 
he saw through the thin artifice of the gunmaker to 
assume a defiance of the priest which he was far from 
feeling. Then the seizure of Alex aroused the 
watchers to deeper emotions at the treatment accorded 
the helpless boy. Rob found it difficult to remain 
inactive as the preparations for the torture were 
made. 

In his zeal to find a suitable place for carrying out 
his inhuman purpose, the Dark Ahh6 had selected a 
spot in that part of the smithy near the window out- 
side of which the watchers were concealed. That 
they might not be discovered, both drew back slightly, 
but they were able to view the whole proceeding. 
Noticing the suppressed excitement of his youthful 
56 


RESCUE OF ALEX. 


57 


and fiery companion, the Woodranger whispered in 
Rob’s ear : 

‘‘It’s a sorry amazement, lad, but ne’er let thy 
heart run off with thy head. Sich races are short, 
lad. I dare say the varmint will ne’er kill the lad 
outright, though I claim no very good reason^r say- 
ing so, seeing I have sich poor opinion o’ the^reetur’. 
How dost think we had better meddle in the matter 1 ” 

“A shot apiece will fix both,” replied the impetu- 
ous Rob. 

“Nay, that’ll ne’er do. It would be a wanton 
waste o’ a good opportunity. Hark, lad ! didst 
hear that cry ? ” 

“ The cry of the tree-toad — the spring cry, too, 
and this late in the season,” answered Rob, in the 
same cautious whisper. 

“ You need no code to show you the sign, lad. Be 
that the cry o’ a toad three months belated, it came 
from the throat o’ a red. There’s an answer off to the 
right. I would stake my reputation as a prophet 
that the woods are abounding with reds.” 

“ In that case we cannot act too quickly.” 

“Nor with a wanton waste o’ caution, lad. You 
are uncommon nervous to-night.” 

“ I know it, Woodranger. The sight of that black 
wretch has set fire to my heart. See ! they will kill 
the boy by inches.” 

“ It is ne’er sich a sight as one would look for on 


58 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


neutral ground. The lad is put to sore straits. We 
cannot act too cautiously, lad, too cautiously ! 

This was spoken, or rather whispered, at the time 
when Alex, his whole weight resting on his toes and 
thumbs, gave expression to sharp cries of pain, in 
spite of his attempt to meet his fate with resignation. 
A slight sound from behind the forge at that moment 
reached his ears, and he thought that his father was 
unable to remain a silent listener to the cruel treat- 
ment any longer. 

Stop — father — let me think ! he exclaimed, 
hoping his words would quiet his father, and check 
the torture of his enemies. But the abb6 showed 
no signs of relenting, as he commanded : 

“Up with him, Basil, higher! Nothing unlocks a 
fool’s tongue like pain.” 

The Woodranger could bear no more. The re- 
straining hand which he had laid on his companion 
tightened, while he whispered : 

“ Lay low, Rob, while I perambulate round to the 
other side. When I get their attention, pull the boy 
out through the window here. Then look out for 
yourselves. Fll meet you somewhere ’tween here 
and the town.” 

As he finished his hurried explanation, the Wood- 
ranger began to move noiselessly away. In his 
present state of feeling Rob would have preferred to 
assume this more dangerous part of the adventure, 


RESCUE OF ALEX, 


59 


but he was too good a soldier to question orders. 
Nor did he allow his gaze to leave the scene in front, 
while he watched and waited. 

Making no sound in his retreat, Rob had no way 
of knowing the Woodranger’s progress except by the 
passage of time. The Dark Abbe had again ques- 
tioned his victim, and received the same reply as he 
had before. Having sympathy for the young sufferer, 
the gunmaker had allowed the chains to slacken until 
Alex for a moment stood squarely on his feet. This 
aroused the anger of Le Petite, who exclaimed : 

Look to yourself, Basil le Noir, or you shall take 
the fool’s place. Up — up with him, till I command 
you to stop, or he lets the truth out of his foul 
mouth.” 

By this time the Woodranger had made a semi-cir- 
cuit of the smithy, and appeared in front of the dingy 
structure. Though intent on watching Alex Briant, 
Rob saw the forester before either of the men in the 
shop. Basil le Noir was again pulling at the chains, 
when he suddenly caught sight of the woodsman 
coming swiftly and silently toward the forge. With 
a low exclamation, the gunmaker let go upon the 
chains, and seized the priest excitedly by the shoulder. 

Released thus suddenly, Alex Briant dropped to 
the floor, the chains falling off from his thumbs, so 
that he was free and upon his feet in a moment. 

“ 111 fares the hand that slays a human being from 


6o THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

sheer wantonness/’ said the Woodranger, in a deep, 
impressive voice, as he paused on the threshold. ‘‘ I 
can ne’er dissemble, but to me sich work as this takes 
on the spirit we might naturally look. for in the red 
man, but ne’er expect in the breast o’ the white.” 

The Woodranger had stopped in such a position 
that he stood with his left side toward the startled 
couple, and his gaze so fixed that he could command 
a view both inside and outside the smithy. The long 
firearm he carried had been drooped into the hollow 
of his left arm, while his right hand rested on its 
stock close to the hammer, which was raised. Both 
men saw that the weapon was cocked, and the Dark 
Abbe shivered, as he looked into the ominous muzzle 
which stared him in the eye. 

‘‘ Who are you } ” demanded the priest, as soon as 
he could find his speech. 

A peaceful perambulator o’ the forests ; one who 
claims no great knack at unravelling the skein o’ 
man’s jedgment, ’less the threads be reeled from the 
big spool o’ common sense. I ’low there be much to 
warp man’s jedgment in the ways he has made, but 
there be no cross trails in the plan o’ the Infinite 
One. Being a man following in God’s path, if not 
after God’s own — ” 

What babbling fool is this } ” cried the puzzled 
priest, making no attempt to conceal his anger at this 
inopportune appearance of the forester. 


RESCUE OF ALEX, 


6i 


‘‘He is a stranger in Acadie/' said Le Noir, “be 
he fool or madman. Look out, Father le Petite, I 
don’t like the way he handles that firearm. He’s 
either criminally careless, or intent on mischief.” 

“Turn that weapon aside,” commanded the Dark 
Abbe, with a tremor in his voice which the Wood- 
ranger did not fail to notice, and his bearded lips 
parted with a grim smile, as he replied : 

“ This weapon o’ mine is ne’er a wanton slayer, and 
I do not disremember that we are on neutral ground. 
Mebbe you do } ” 

The Dark Abb6 and his companion looked one 
upon the other, wondering what sort of a person 
they had to deal with. They did not believe the 
Woodranger was to be feared if he could be made to 
put aside that threatening firearm. Naturally both 
had forgotten for the time being their captive. 
Finally, the abbe plucked up courage to say : 

“Prithee, man, how dare you declare yourself to 
be on neutral ground while you offer such hostility } 
I remember it, and, in the name of peace, once more 
ask you put aside that gun. It might explode with- 
out such intention on your part.” 

The Woodranger laughed in his peculiar way, and 
replied, in that deliberate tone of his : 

“ That weepon I’arned the ways o’ thy brethren in 
dark cloth long ere it came to be mine. Could this 
slayer o’ beasts and men, both red and white, find a 


62 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


tongue, not of fire, it would tell you how it defended 
Norridgewock in the hands o’ Father Ralle at his 
last stand. I was , there, who ask no credit for it, 
and saw the truth.” 

The words were not without the desired effect, 
for both instantly showed a deep interest in what he 
was saying. 

“It has some of the points of a French gun,” said 
Le Noir, with a critical look. “That is a Richelieu 
stock, though I am not so sure of the barrel. I fain 
would examine the weapon,” he added, addressing the 
Woodranger. “ Being a maker of such implements, 
I take an interest in them beyond that of a common 
man.” 

The forester smiled, but shook his head. 

“ So you were with the unfortunate Father Ralle 
asked the Black Abbe, who was following this dia- 
logue, hoping to gain some advantage by it. 

“ I will not previcate the truth, man. It was for 
me, whether it was for good or ill, to see the father 
fall. Mebbe I was nearest, and now my attention 
has been called to it, I am quite sure sich was the 
case, when he went down like a man o’ war rather 
than one o’ peace. Yes, I fit with Ralle.” 

Coming at once to a conclusion far from the truth, 
the priest said, fervently : 

“ Let me clasp thy hand, faithful son. I would 
walk to Quebec for the privilege.” 


RESCUE OF ALEX. 


63 


I have no desire to dissemble, sir, but, and mind 
you I say it in good faith, if you were to look behind 
you, you might see that which, without walking a 
step, would surprise and amaze you/’ 

Acting upon the suggestion, both men turned 
quickly about, when they discovered that Alex 
Briant was missing. 

‘‘ Gone ! he has got away ! ” exclaimed the priest. 
** Quick, Basil, stranger — ’’but when he looked 
back to address the Woodranger, he found that he, 
too, had disappeared ! 


CHAPTER VII. 


‘‘KNACK 'gainst CUNNING." 

The Dark Abbe had good reason for uttering his 
exclamation of surprise, for so silently and swiftly 
had the Woodranger disappeared that neither the 
priest nor his companion could tell whither he had 
gone. Like his race, the latter was superstitious, 
and he was quick to ascribe the assistance of evil 
powers to have enabled the strange man to get away 
so easily, and he said : 

“ The good saints protect us from the power of — " 

“ Out upon you for a fool ! " cried Le Petite. “ He 
cannot yet be far away. He must be overtaken, and 
the boy, too. It will not do for either to get off. 
Do you find the boy and bring him to me, or your 
life will not be worth a forfeit. will look after 

the babbling woodsman. Stir your clumsy legs, 
man, or you will rue this night’s work." 

By this time Basil le Noir had noticed the dis- 
turbed appearance of the foliage about the window, 
and he concluded that Alex had escaped by that 
place. Thinking to cut off the youth’s flight by 
64 


KNACK ^GAINST CUNNINGS 65 

going around the end of the smithy, he started as 
fast as his stout legs could well carry him out at 
the door. Even in his alarm he did not neglect to 
close the heavy door, the abbe having already rushed 
out into the open air. 

Leaving the precious couple to follow, each his 
own way, in their search for the fugitives, our inter- 
est naturally takes us to the fugitives themselves. 
It will be easily understood that it had been a part 
of the Woodranger's object in calling the attention 
of the priest and the gunmaker to the escape of Alex, 
that he might find time to get away himself. He 
believed, and with good reason, that the Dark Abbe 
had Indian allies within calling, and that he would 
summon them to his assistance the moment his 
suspicions should be aroused. Thus he darted 
rapidly around the corner of the shop, and when 
his enemies were looking with amazement upon the 
empty space he had filled a moment before, he was 
threading the forest several rods away. 

Knowing that Rob would lose no time in getting 
away from the smithy, and that he would keep under 
cover of the growth, the forester anticipated the 
other’s course so well that he was not long in over- 
taking his youthful companion and Alex. At that 
moment a low, but distinct, whistle, sounding very 
much like the call of the brooding grouse, reached 
the ears of the three. 


66 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


The or he-wolf is signalling his herd,” declared 
the Woodranger, in a cautious tone. ‘‘They will 
gather below here. I see you have the lad with you, 
Rob. We’ll keep on in the way you were moving. 
Hast Tamed where the lad lives } ” 

“ My home is near the lower orchards, not far 
from the basin,” replied Alex. “ But, kind sirs, I 
know not what to do. Mother will be worried about 
me. But in Basil’s smithy lies father concealed 
behind the forge. I must not desert him, for he is 
wounded sore, and if either Le Noir or the priest 
should find him, I am sure they would put him to 
death.” 

Robert Rogers allowed his surprise to be shown 
in his looks, but the Woodranger spoke in his usual 
matter-of-fact tone, as he said : 

“A truth ’yond prevication, lad. How long has 
thy father been in ambushment in the shop o’ his 
inemy } ” 

“ Since sunset, sir. Oh, you seem like an 
honest — ” 

“ Tut — tut, lad. Spare thy time and breath. 
I hear the red wolves replying to their leader. We 
must be moving, but while we move we can busy 
our minds with some plan out of this amazement.” 
He led the way along the edge of the woods toward 
the town of Grand Pre, Rob and Alex keeping close 
behind him, though it puzzled the latter either to 


KNACK ^GAINST CUNNING: 


67 


imitate the pace or the noiseless movements of his 
companions. 

It requires no great adeptness o’ jedgment, arter 
what has been said and heard,” resumed the Wood- 
ranger, for me to say that the inemy are not going 
to give your family any perticular rest till they have 
captured you, and, it may be, have glutted their 
thirst for revenge, which I am prone to say is as dry 
as the hot sands in summer.” 

You will help us, sir } ” said Alex, anxiously, 
ne’er wish to previcate, lad, but my young 
friend here and I have come to the neutral ground 
on business, and not to stir an amazement that 
would be like raking over a hornet’s nest on a hot 
day. Mebbe you can tell us where habitates one 
Benedict le Fontaine ^ ” 

‘‘ His farm is just off the main street on our left, 
as we go to my home. It will be in sight, sir, and 
you cannot miss it for the big maple. Do you think 
they will find father at the smithy ” 

‘‘ Not for a time, lad, not for a time. The inemy 
will naturally leave the smithy to look for us.” 

I am so glad father is safe, if for only a short 
time. Do you think the Micmacs are arming against 
us? And have the French really been successful 
at Port Royal 

‘‘The last be too sure, lad, too sure. As to the 
other, the stick seems to float that way. But my 


68 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Vice is for you to keep a still tongue. The brook 
that runs deep does not gurgle. It is the tongue 
that makes the trouble, lad/’ 

‘‘ You are English,” declared the other, who seemed 
determined to keep up the conversation. 

‘‘Peaceful perambulators o’ the great woods, lad, 
nothing more. I wist thy father has a more discreet 
tongue than thine.” 

This served to quiet Alex, who moved along with 
his companions in silence. Judging from the still- 
ness of the night there was no human being within 
a long distance. At a point where the road entered 
the forest the Woodranger stopped. 

“Where does this dark-faced maker o’ weepons o’ 
war live.^^” he asked. “Mebbe I didst know once, 
but the memory o’ it has slipped from my mind.” 

“ His home is on the Canard, some distance from 
here, toward Blow-me-down.” 

“ Now my attention has been called to it, I remem- 
ber the spot, a little corner cut from the sea and 
the beech wood. I remember the aged dame who 
wore her faded cap and spun the flax, with a tongue 
as busy as her wheel, and with far less o’ music in 
its shrill tone. What think you, Rob, o’ the inemy ” 

“That they will look for the boy at home, and 
for you in the woods. They cannot know there is a 
third, which is myself,” replied the young ranger to 
the abrupt question. 


KNACK ^GAINST CUNNING:* 69 

Which is a credit to your jedgment, or mine 
be in fault. Presuming that sich be the case, and 
to me it seems no arrant presumption, it ill becomes 
us to act other than discreetly, and with sich prompt- 
ness as is consistent with good jedgment. From 
what I have heerd, lad, I conclude it will not be safe 
for your father to remain in Grand Pre longer than 
he can get somewhere else. The Dark Abbe has 
reason, too, I jedge, to look for you. Have you no 
friend where you and your mother can go until this 
disturbance has blown over } ” 

think of none better than Jean Vallie on the 
Avon, sir.’' 

‘^Then speed thy steps to Jean Vallie’s, and Rob 
shall go with you to see that you fall into no ambush- 
ment. I will go back and see what fare befalls your 
father.” 

You are very kind, sir. I know you will do the 
best you can for father.” 

That I will, lad, and you may say to your mother 
from me, which is arrant presumption, seeing I am 
an entire stranger, — mind you I say this not as 
a meddler, — that she ne’er need feel undue misap- 
prehension over what in all consistency can be but a 
passing breeze.” 

Who may I tell her is so kind } ” 

‘‘It does not matter, it does not matter. Mebbe 
I’ve committed a blameful indiscretion in speaking 


70 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


out as I did, seeing Fve said that which in all consist- 
ency can be only speculation on my part. I jedge the 
inemy be ranging low, and close at hand, ’cording to 
their signal-cries. They tell me, too, they be a bit 
confused in their drift. You had better be moving, 
lads, afore the dusky-skins smell your tracks. I 
I need not tell you to act discreetly, Rob ; that it be 
knack ’gainst cunning, white knack ’gainst red cun- 
ning. It would be giving you just cause to doubt 
my faith in you.” 

The shrill cry of a catbird at that moment fell on 
their ears, and pressing the hand of his older com- 
panion in reply to his caution, Rob Rogers, motioning 
to Alex to follow him, led the way noiselessly in the 
direction of the village, keeping under cover as much 
as possible. 

‘‘ Rob will not be caught like the bee that o’erloads 
with sweets in his greediness. Nay, the lad is not 
o’erconfident, and his cunning is a match for the 
reds. How childish I be getting to be, and yet it 
may be an indiscretion on my part to let them go 
alone. An ol’ man’s prudence, arter all, is pr^^2:;'able 
to all the zeal o’ youth.” 

Having watched his young friends out of sight, the 
Woodranger turned about and plunged into the woods, 
retracing with noiseless steps the course he and his 
companions had just come. 


CHAPTER VIII. 


THE ACADIAN RANGER. 

The path of the Woodrariger was really less envi- 
roned by danger than might have been considered at 
first thought. Both the French and the Indians had 
left the vicinity of Le Noir’s smithy, expecting the 
fugitives would leave the place with all speed possi- 
ble. Still it was not unreasonable to suppose that 
some straggling member of the party might be hang- 
ing behind the others. Even this stimulus was not 
needed to make the forester cautious, as he advanced 
through the beech growth, where only at rare inter- 
vals the moonlight threw its bars of silver. Caution 
with him was a part of his nature, and, avoiding the 
openings in the forest, he flitted like a shadow toward 
the lone smithy, until for the second time he stood 
near the hidden window. 

The fire on the forge was now burning low, and 
not a sound came from within or about the building, 
as he pushed aside the vines, to get a view of the 
interior. Le Noir, in the haste of his departure, had 
left the torch burning, but its light was nearly spent. 
71 


72 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Despite this unfavourable lighting of the scene, the 
Woodranger was able to distinguish the figure of a 
man lying at full length on the floor in the shadow 
of the forge. He was so motionless that at first he 
thought he was dead, but presently a low groan, like 
a half-suppressed moan of pain, escaped his lips. Feel- 
ing confident of his identity, the forester lost no time 
in addressing him by name. 

The wounded fugitive started with surprise, and 
lifting himself upon one elbow, asked, as he tried to 
discover the speaker : 

‘‘ Who are you ? 

I do not previcate the truth in saying that I am 
your friend, seeing Fve left your boy to find his way 
home without me. The reds are perambulating round 
considerable, with fingers naturally itching for scalp- 
locks. I jedge you are not well equipped to move 
about.'' 

‘‘ I carry an ounce of French lead in my right side, 
sir. Still I am stronger than I was when I reached 
this shop at sunset. I crawled out from my hiding- 
place, hoping I could get to my home. But it is all 
up with me, and you can do me no greater favour 
than to warn my wife and children of the danger 
hanging over them. Tell them — " 

‘^Forgive an ol' man for his weakness, sir, for 
conceit is but a form o’ weakness, but I believe I can 
do you a better turn by examining your hurt than by 


THE ACADIAN RANGER, 


73 


listening to sich talk, which in all consistency I 
couldn’t think o’ following. If French lead be not 
as bad as red lead, it do chaw considerable, I ’low ; 
and yet this perticarler chunk may have been more 
marciful than you conclude. Anyway, it’ll do no 
harm to find out, and though I claim no great 
adeptness in the matter o’ dressing sich, I think 
I can say, without boasting, that I’m no novice at 
the knack. It be an ugly rent. Let me move you 
so the light from the fire will fall on it. I would add 
a leetle lightwood to the blaze, but that might be the 
means o’ calling the red imps this way. Darkness is 
not the worst ill that can befall one on ’casions like 
this.” 

The Woodranger possessed the happy faculty of 
using his hands while he talked, and by this time he 
had not only gently removed the clothing about the 
wound, but carefully wiped away the clotted blood 
with some of the lint he always carried with him 
for that purpose. 

‘‘It is an ugly spot,” he mused, “and the bullet 
must lay purty near the skin on the back. It 
’pears to have struck a rib and sort o’ slewed down- 
ward.” Turning the sufferer over on his stomach, 
without checking his speech, he went on : “ Now’s 
me, it does lay handy, and handier still, as it comes 
out to show itself,” holding up between his fore- 
finger and thumb the bullet, which he had removed 


74 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


with a swiftness and dexterity a surgeon might have 
envied. 

The Woodranger then staunched the flow of blood 
with more of the lint, and bound the wound carefully 
with strips of soft-tanned doeskin. It was less than 
five minutes from the time he had entered the smithy 
before he had dressed the gunshot and replaced the 
clothing. 

‘‘ I feel better already,'’ declared Briant, thankfully. 

I shall pick up strength now surely.” Then he 
betrayed something of the caution of his nature, as 
he asked : Who are you who have done me this 
favour.^ You are not French, as I can tell by your 
speech. You are a man of the woods. You come 
from New England } ” 

‘‘Your discernment tells me that you are one 
lettered in the unwritten ways o’ woodcraft. I 
think I commit no indiscretion in saying that you 
are the man the French are looking for as the reds 
seek a fat deer in the hunting season.” 

“ Who told you that ? You are not a spy ? ” 

“ If knowing that which your enemies would ne’er 
care to have me know makes o’ me a spy, then I’m a 
spy. If telling ’em things to you makes me a friend, 
then I’m a friend.” 

“ Forgive me, friend. In my concern over the 
reverses of fortune I jumped at hasty conclusions. 
Yes ; I am Wallace Briant, the ranger, the outlaw, 


THE ACADIAN RANGER. 


75 


the fugitive, whom the French are hunting as they 
would run down a deer. I must not tarry longer 
here. Now you have treated me so well, I feel that 
I can move again.'' 

^‘Nay, Friend Briant, if you will take the advice 
o' one who can claim no great jedgment outside the 
leetle craft he has picked up in the haunts that he 
loves best, you'll tarry a bit. Nay, there is no time 
gained by hurrying a tired foot, let alone a wounded 
body. A few minutes of rest will work much good. 
A friend o' mine has gone to your home with your 
boy, and they will see that no ill befalls the lad's 
mother. It has been thought best that a flight be 
taken to one Jean Vallie on the Avon, until this affair 
has blown over." 

The very plan that was in my mind. And of all 
the men I know Jean will be the most likely to 
succour us. He does not accept kindly this under- 
hand work of the government of New France and 
the priests. But who are you who has taken such an 
interest in me and my family } I do not remember 
that I ever have seen you before ; and yet you seem 
like an old friend." 

‘H'm called ‘The Woodranger,' which name may 
and may not fit me well. As it will not be prudent 
for you to try to reach this Jean Vallie's to-night in 
your condition, can you think o' a place where it will 
be safe for you to tarry for awhile ? " 


76 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


‘‘ I have no truer friend in Grand Pre than Benedict 
le Fontaine. His home will be on the most direct 
course to the Avon. Let us go to Benedict’s with all 
haste possible. I am strong enough now to walk.” 

The Woodranger shook his head, but did not offer 
further opposition. In fact he knew himself they 
were losing valuable time. As he assisted Briant to 
his feet, he was wondering if it was faring . well with 
Rob. 

Leaning heavily on the forester’s arm, the Acadian 
ranger at first was able to move only with great 
difficulty and pain. But gradually the strength 
returned to his limbs, and once outside of the smithy 
the open air gave him new vitality. The moon had 
now risen so that its mellow beams were beginning 
to filter down through the dense, beechen foliage, 
giving to the scene the ghostly light so peculiar to 
forests on moonlight nights. 

‘‘ By this time the priest and his followers are at 
the lower end o’ the town,” whispered the Wood- 
ranger, ‘‘ so the way is clearer for us. Lean on me 
all you can. You will need such assistance as I can 
give you afore you reach Benedict’s, or I miscalculate 
in my string o’ knots.” 

It was a slow, tedious journey down the silent 
beech woods, until at last they stood under a clump 
of apple-trees in sight of the tall white chapel which 
spoke so eloquently of the peace of Grand Pr6. Up 


THE ACADIAN RANGER. 


77 


and down the long street, as far as they could see, not 
one was astir. At the end of a short lane running 
off in front of the church, under a row of ancient 
Lombardy poplars, stood a white cottage, the home 
of Father Fafard. 

Would that all were as faithful to Acadie as he,'’ 
said Briant, rallying slightly. ‘‘ Good Benedict’s 
cottage is at the end of this lane. I feel stronger ; 
you need not fear but I can reach his home. I am 
the more troubled over what is taking place at my 
home. I am trusting completely in you in following 
this course.” 

The Woodranger made no reply to this, and a few 
minutes later they paused under the Mary maple,” 
close by the farmer’s cottage, when he said : 

‘‘ If you will rest here on this bench a minute, I 
will perambulate ahead, and see if there be no cross 
paths for us to trail.” 

There were no bolts to the doors in Acadia, which 
spoke well for the honesty of the people. Neither 
was it the custom to draw the curtains after nightfall, 
so the Woodranger was favoured with an unobstructed 
view of this Acadian farmer’s kitchen and dining- 
room, as he paused near the cottage to see if it would 
be safe to announce himself and companion at the 
door. His first glance within seemed to show him 
that he had been wise in taking this cautious survey 
of the situation. 


78 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


He saw that the walls of the room were smooth 
and highly polished, the glistening wood reflecting 
the light of the embers glowing on the wide hearth, 
a fire having been kindled to cook the evening meal. 
Overhead, the dark beams and sooted rafters seemed 
a fitting support for huge clusters of herbs and long 
plaits of onions, suspended from numerous pegs. 
The furnishings of the apartment were simple and 
plain, everything from the straight high-backed chairs, 
with their basket bottoms, to the dresser-shelves bear- 
ing evidence of the thrift and neatness of the good 
housewife. Upon these last was a modest display of 
crockery, arranged so as to show their intermingling 
shades of blue, brown, and yellow, sprinkled with dif- 
ferent designs of vines and grotesque images, all of 
which stood out in bold relief in the flickering glow 
of the candles set at either end of the shelf over the 
hearth. 

Near the centre of the sanded and well-scrubbed 
floor stood the dining-table, and for that matter the 
table for general use, as there was none other in the 
room. This had no covering, save for the dishes of 
food now placed on it, and it shone as white and clear 
as much patient rubbing could make the beech wood. 
The food consisted of some crescent-shaped cakes, 
warm from the frying-pot and snowy with a sprinkling 
of powdered maple sugar. A large dish held a shad 
done to a nice crispness and browned by the frugal 


THE ACADIAN RANGER. 


79 


cook just as her master liked it best, and another con- 
tained a hot barley loaf. Beside each plate was a 
bowl of new milk. 

Seated at this table were four persons, two men, a 
woman, and a girl of seven or eight. It would be 
natural to suppose that three of these people were 
the farmer, his good wife and little daughter, Evange- 
line, whose childlike countenance bore the beauty 
and sweetness of youthful innocence and purity. 
The visitor, if a neighbour running in could be called 
such, was Jean Hebert, the notary public. 

That the evening meal had been delayed by his 
coming was evident from appearance, but it was really 
no fault of his. The recent news from Port Royal 
had afforded them a theme for discussion which had 
completely dulled their appetites for even the tempt- 
ing food placed before them by the faithful house- 
wife, who knew far less of the intrigues of plotting 
kings and their tools than she did of her homely 
duties. 

‘‘ For my part, good Benedict, I can't see why any 
news from Port Royal should cause a good supper to 
be spoiled. Have the British broken their faith } " 

“ Nay, good wife," he replied, speaking, as she had 
done, in the Normandy dialect, which prevailed 
among the Acadians, ‘‘you misinterpret the news. 
The French have gained what Father le Petite con- 
siders a great victory for them. A whole regiment 


8o 


THE YOUNG GUNB BARER. 


at the capital, and you know the British are not 
strong there, has been surprised and either killed or 
captured. The defence must fall soon. Port Royal 
has ever been a bone of contention between the 
French and the English, you know.” 

‘‘I do not know why,” she said, frankly. ‘‘I do 
not like this shedding of so much blood, when it 
seems to me unnecessary. Had the PTenchany just 
cause for complaint, Jean Hebert } Being a learned 
man, you ought to answer my question plainly.” 

France can well claim that she has,” replied the 
notary, with what might be termed a cautious speech, 
seeing that it was capable of different significations. 
‘‘Acadie is rightfully a child of France, and the 
mother should have her own.” 

How does France show the parental love she 
professes to have for us 1 ” asked Le Fontaine, quickly. 
‘‘Years ago she sold her child to England to obtain 
peace with an enemy she could not conquer. Little 
cares she now for the bond-child she cast off for her 
own selfish ends. I know Father le Petite and his 
followers have a powerful influence when they talk of 
the love of motherland, and of the glory of the lilies 
of King Louis. They forget or ignore that the 
flower and beauty of Acadie are truly English sub- 
jects, born under the British cross of the Georges of 
England. If of Normandy blood, you, my sweet 
Evangeline, are in truth English. 


THE ACADIAN RANGER. 


8l 


And what blame have we to fling at our king ? 
If we have proved ungracious subjects, ready to rise 
and smite our master in secret, he has ever been kind 
to us. He has left us in peace and contentment to 
grow fat. Our bins are overflowing, our cattle look 
sleek, our markets are good, and peace reigns in 
our homes. But we should neither let the favours 
of one nor the prejudices of the other influence 
us ; let us show some independence ; remain true 
to ourselves, — to Acadie, the favourite child of 
America.” 

‘^We should not forget that France is its mother- 
land,” persisted the notary public. The good abb6 
tells us that the pig is well fed for the fall slaughter, 
which means that we are being liberally fed by the 
British that we may make better spoils for them. I 
cannot say it is not so.” 

I do not know how Benedict feels about it,” 
spoke up his wife, but as for me, I am sorry the 
Dark Abbe has come among us again. Troubles 
always follow his — ” 

Hush, good wife ! ” interrupted Benedict. Now 
you let your woman's tongue run away with your 
usual good judgment. Only last Sabbath Father 
Fafard admonished us all to be faithful to Acadie, 
and that means we should not forget the ties of 
homeland.” 

‘‘ If we could only be let alone,” she said, and the 


82 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


men having no reply to make, both began to break 
some of the barley bread into the bowls of milk, 
when the rap of the Woodranger at the door suddenly 
broke the silence, causing the four to start with sur- 
prise if not alarm. 


CHAPTER IX. 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT. 

Although a youth in age, Robert Rogers was a 
man in experience. Possessing a hardy constitution 
and a fondness for the sports of the forest, at six 
years of age he went into the woods with his father’s 
gun and shot a wildcat. This love for adventure and 
outdoor life strengthened with his growing frame, 
so that as a hunter and scout he penetrated even the 
remotest regions of the extensive wilderness stretch- 
ing between the English and French settlements. In 
these woods roamed the bear, panther, deer, moose, 
wildcat, and other wild animals more or less ferocious, 
all of which had suffered at his hands, many of them 
in close encounter. Besides the wild beasts of the 
forests, he had often met those still more savage 
denizens of the wildwood, the Indians. It is true 
that comparative peace had existed between the latter 
and the white settlers since the end of Lovewell’s war 
in 1725, two years before our hero was born ; still, he 
had studied their ways and methods, until none of 
their young braves were more proficient on the trail 
83 


84 


V 

THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

than he. Rob Rogers was a born Indian trailer and 
fighter. 

On this particular summer evening in Acadia, 
hundreds of miles from home, he was conscious that 
at last he should be called upon to exercise some of 
the cunning arts of the race he looked upon as his 
natural enemy. He was glad the Woodranger had 
given him this, his first opportunity of proving his 
metal on the war-path. 

The forest from this vicinity swung off southward, 
leaving a wide tract of meadow on the right of the 
narrow village of Grand Pre. But the hamlet was 
so bordered by its orchards that it was fairly em- 
bowered in a forest, though not in the sense of the 
term as generally used. Many of these trees had 
branches so near to the ground that they afforded 
ample protection to any number of persons who might 
choose to approach under cover of this kind. These 
low-hanging fruit-trees at the same time promised 
shelter for Rob and Alex, as they advanced. 

But Rob selected the road as the safest way of 
advance, reasoning that any one seen prowling in or 
around the orchards might be looked upon as a sus- 
picious character, especially by the Indians, while 
any number of pedestrians would attract no attention 
moving leisurely along the street. 

Lights were burning at most of the cottages, but 
no one was seen either moving about the houses 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT 


85 


or on the street. It was not the custom of the 
Acadians to be abroad much after the Angelus 
had rung its evening summons to home-worship, 
so to Alex, at least, this absence of others did not 
appear unusual or portentous of anything out of 
the usual order. 

Rob noticed this quietness of the scene, but he 
kept on in silence. Alex’s mind was too deeply 
occupied in meditation upon the trouble which had 
so recently come into his young life to speak. 
Thus they were nearing the lower part of the town, 
where the sea shone in the clear moonlight like a 
huge silver shield, when Rob asked : 

‘‘That is your house standing back a little from 
the main street, is it not, Alex } ” 

“Yes, sir; but how came you to know.^^” asked 
the young Acadian, in surprise. 

“ From the number of dusky watchers around it,” 
replied Rob. Then, seeing the look of wonder on 
the face of his companion, he added : “ If you’ll 
promise not to make any fuss I will tell you a bit 
of startling news.” 

“Has anything happened to mother.?” inquired 
Alex, in alarm. 

“Not that I know of. Your father is a brave 
man, Alex .? ” 

“There is not one in Acadie braver than he, sir.” 

“ And you want to be worthy of his name .? ” 


86 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


‘‘ Yes, sir, for his sake and mother’s. But what 
has happened } I promise to be brave and meet the 
worst without flinching.” 

I think you have got the right stuff in you. 
Well, it is no use for me to beat about the bush, 
particularly when that bush happens to have a red 
enemy concealed in it. Alex, we are likely to have 
a hot time before we get your mother and sister 
into safety. The house is already surrounded by 
Indians.” 

Though he had expected something like this, Alex 
had hard work to keep from giving expression to an 
exclamation of dismay at this intelligence. 

‘‘And mother — ” 

“Is, I believe, unharmed now. Do not be over- 
alarmed. The situation is critical, and you might as 
well know the worst, but there is a chance that we 
are not too late. At any rate, we will do our best to 
prove it so.” 

“I do not see any Indians,” said Alex, looking 
sharply around. 

“You would not expect them to be standing out 
as targets for the eyes of every passer-by. They are 
skulking in the orchard yonder, and I believe have 
fairly encircled the house. No doubt they are wait- 
ing for the signal from their leader to spring out and 
attack the inmates. The night is not favourable for 
such work, and they have to be extremely slow and 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT. 87 

cautious. So shall we, for that matter. While the 
moon is in our favour, it is still against us.'' 

What shall we do " asked Alex, anxiously. 

We must reach the house before the enemy, and 
then get your mother and sister away, if possible. If 
not, we will hold the fort against the red imps and 
their allies until the Woodranger comes. As the 
French and Indians are planning to start at midnight 
for their raid on Main-a-Dieu, I judge they will not 
delay a great while in their attack here." 

‘‘ How I tremble for mother's and sister s safety. 
Tell me what I must do and I will do it as best 
I can." 

I want you to go to the house alone. The enemy 
will naturally think there is nothing in that to excite 
their suspicion, and it will not hasten their assault. 
If I should go with you it would perhaps cause them 
to suspect something wrong." 

How will you get there } " 

I shall have to do it without being seen. I think 
I can see sufficient cover to enable me to reach the 
house without arousing the suspicion of the lynx-eyed 
red men. Trust me for that. I haven't followed their 
trails in Canada for nothing, and I should be a dull 
pupil of the ^Woodranger did I fail. But as it will 
take me longer to reach the house than it will you, I 
want you to remain right here under the shade of 
these trees until I have been gone ten minutes, unless 


88 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the reds precipitate a crisis in affairs, when I advise 
you to look out for yourself. But their plans are not 
ripe enough for anything of that sort. When you 
judge I have been gone ten minutes, start down the 
road as unconcerned as if you had no thought of a 
Micmac being within a hundred miles. To keep up 
appearances it will be better for you to whistle or 
sing, as you approach the house. I shall hear this 
and know you are doing your part. After reaching 
the house, don’t alarm your mother by any account 
of the Indians. You may tell her about your father. 
When I have reached the house I will signal you by 
the shrill piping of an August cricket three times, — 
twice in rapid succession, and once again after a short 
pause. Remember all these directions and act your 
part with a brave heart. Good-bye, till I meet you 
in your own home.” 

A moment later Alex stood alone, and so silently 
and adroitly did Robert Rogers quit his presence that 
he soon lost track of him. In the brief outline of his 
plan to Alex, Rob had improved the opportunity to 
select the course that was most favourable for him 
to follow, and as he left his companion he dropped 
flat upon the earth, to begin a tedious passage to the 
Briant home, keeping under cover of the row of 
willows skirting the roadside for several rods. On 
his right the meadows lay as level and smooth as a 
house floor for half a furlong or more, over which 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT 


89 


fell the shadows of the willows and apple-trees below 
him, these shades growing shorter as the moon rose 
higher and higher into the cloudless sky. 

Fortunately the rowen had grown up so that, as 
he crept prostrate on the ground, it afforded him 
considerable protection from the sharp eyes of the 
Micmac scouts. Necessarily his progress was very 
slow, and he had used up half of the time he had 
allotted to Alex before he had got beyond the cover 
of the willows, and was moving slowly and silently 
along toward the orchard. 

The apple-trees afforded a thicker foliage, so the 
moonlight did not fall so brightly here, but he knew 
now that he was getting into close proximity of the 
foe. If he needed any proof of this it followed soon, 
when the cry of a night bird rang out shrilly from a 
clump of bushes scarcely a rod from him. 

Thinking it possible he had been discovered, Rob 
paused to listen intently. He did not have long to 
wait before an answering cry came from below the 
Briant cottage. This was succeeded by another to 
the south, and then by a fourth from the direction of 
the beech woods. Then all was silent again, until 
a voice with a boyish intonation awoke the stillness 
with the words of a sweet Acadian song. 

It was Alex, faithfully following his part of the 
plan, and as he continued to send forth his musical 
notes his voice grew clearer and sweeter. And as 


90 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


the notes swelled on the still evening air the cry of 
the supposed bird again rang out, sharper than be- 
fore, to be answered again by the three in the dis- 
tance. As the last note of these died away, the first 
cry was repeated, though it received no reply. 

‘‘Alex has been discovered,” thought Rob. “The 
red imps will act soon, but they will wait till he 
reaches the house. Now I know your positions, 
Mr. Reds, I can shape my course so as to avoid you. 
I shall never have a better chance to scoop a scalp, 
but Woodranger would call me a fool. I suppose I 
must wait.” 

He was already creeping away from the hiding- 
place of the Micmac scout, moving slower and more 
cautiously than ever, if that were possible. Down 
through the low branches of the trees he caught 
sight of the house he hoped to reach. Each move- 
ment now placed a greater distance between him and 
the foremost Indian. 

He could tell by the sound of Alex’s voice how 
fast he was progressing, until at last he approached 
the house. A moment later the song was ended, 
which showed that the singer had entered the dwell- 
ing. 

Rob fancied he heard a slight rustle, as of a body 
moving through the thick grass in his rear, but it 
was distinguishable for only a moment. The Mic- 
mac was following almost in his track. His great- 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT 


91 


est fear now was that the sharp-eyed savage would 
discover his trail, which he had no means of con- 
cealing. 

Thus, inch by inch and foot by foot, Rob ap- 
proached the house, every sense on the alert to 
catch some sign of the enemy behind him, and to 
guard against betraying his own presence by some 
careless act. A spot of earth was flooded by the 
moonlight where a tree was missing near the cottage, 
but the boy scout had no other alternative than to 
hazard the risk of crossing it. Accordingly, lying 
as closely to the ground as possible, after having 
covered his head with some of the rowen pulled 
from the earth, he crawled with the pace of a snail 
across the bar of moonlight. 

No alarm reaching his ears, a little later he stopped 
at the cottage side, to breathe a minute, and scan the 
scene over before he should signal to Alex. Seeing 
a door a few feet to his right, he crept along to that, 
and then the sharp chirrup of an August cricket 
rang out on the evening air. The third note had 
scarcely died away when the door opened cautiously, 
and Alex stood before him. 

am so glad you have come,’’ said the latter, 
but unheeding him, Rob, still creeping, crossed over 
the threshold, until he lay at full length on the floor 
inside. 

‘^Step outside, as if you were intent on some 


92 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


errand,” whispered Rob. “But don’t go far nor be 
gone long.” 

Alex did as he was told, and a minute later the 
two stood facing each other in the Briant kitchen. 
Alex’s mother was present, looking anxious and 
excited, and beside her was a girl three or four years 
younger than Alex. 

“ My friend, mother and sister,” began Alex, but 
she stopped him by saying : 

“I understand, Alex. But, sir,” addressing the 
young scout, “ I do not understand what all this 
means. My boy tells me his father is in trouble, 
and your very actions show that some great danger 
is over us.” 

“Nothing that we cannot overcome,” replied Rob. 
“ Mr. Briant has been wounded, but a friend of mine 
is looking after him, and I am here to see what can 
be done in your welfare.” 

His assuring tone gave her hope, and she imme- 
diately appeared more calm, saying, in a tone which 
told that she was equal to what she professed : 

“ There is some great danger menacing us. I know 
as well as if you had said so. But I do not under- 
stand its nature. I wish you would tell me, so I can 
do my part toward defending our home. I am used 
to danger, and I know my husband has offended the 
French, for we are not Acadians by birth. It will 
be better for me to know the full truth.” 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT 


93 


Rob was examining the priming of his gun at that 
moment, but he had seen that she was a beautiful 
woman of middle life, whose every action showed 
that she was brave and to be trusted. He realised 
the truth of what she had said, and quickly apprised 
her of the real situation. She listened without 
trepidation. 

“I am glad I know,” she said. ‘‘Wallace left a 
gun at home with me, and I will show you that I can 
use it as well as half the men, in a case of necessity.” 

“ I will get mine,” added Alex. “ The Micmacs 
will find it no easy matter to gain entrance here.” 

Alex started for his weapon, and when both he 
and his mother had armed themselves and joined 
Rob, the latter said : 

“At present we can only watch and wait. One 
of you had better take a station where a view of the 
street can be had, both up and down the road. The 
other will do well to keep a close watch toward 
the east. I will look out toward the west and south. 
Let me know at the least cause for alarm.” 

This plan was at once acted upon, Alex taking the 
post which commanded a view of the road, as directed 
by Robert Rogers. 

The three watched and waited in silence for nearly 
half an hour, and it began to seem to Mrs. Briant 
that they were not going to be molested, when the 
young scout called to her. Upon reaching his side 


94 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


he pointed toward the woods, when she saw crossing 
the meadow a small body of men led by one who was 
carrying over his head a sort of rude flag. 

They are Indians — Micmacs ! she declared. 

What does it mean } ” 

‘‘ They want to speak to some one, probably the 
occupant of the house. We will watch them awhile.” 

Soon finding that the party continued to approach 
in a body, he said : 

It begins to look so they were working a dodge 
to get upon us in a body. That must be stopped. 
You must show a flag, and order them to stop as 
soon as they come within hearing. It will not be 
best for me to be seen at present, but I will be 
ready to fire upon them the instant I see anything 
wrong about their actions. Never fear but I will see 
that they do not surprise you.” 

‘‘I am not afraid,” she replied. ‘‘And here is a 
kerchief which will be all I shall need. I suppose I 
had better open the door.” 

She spoke calmly, and quickly prepared to carry 
out the plan. 

“You had better display your signal from the win- 
dow. If they do not stop at sight of it, shout for 
them to do so. If that does not have the effect, I 
will see what a chunk of lead will do toward stopping 
them. It will fix at least one.” 

Raising the nearest window, she was soon shaking 


ROB ACTS THE SCOUT. 


95 


in the open air the hastily improvised flag of truce, 
while Rob from another opening close by watched 
the approaching Indians to see what effect the signal 
would have upon them. In the midst of this intense 
suspense, Alex came in from the adjoining room, 
saying, excitedly : 

‘‘ The Dark Abbe is coming to the house ! '' 


CHAPTER X. 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 

It was a critical moment at the Briant cottage, and 
Rob felt that only immediate action could save them. 
It looked as if this party had appeared to attract the 
attention of the inmates, while the abbe effected a 
surprise upon them. But, whether iii" answer to the 
signal of Mrs. Briant or not, the approaching party of 
Micmacs stopped, the leader swaying his flag to and 
fro with an evident purpose. This body had kept in 
the opening of the meadow, so that they were in 
plain sight of the house. They could also command 
a view of the road. 

‘‘The abb6 must not be allowed to enter,” de- 
clared Rob. “ Here, Alex, take my stand, and do 
not hesitate to fire at the foremost of the reds, in 
case they show any hostile movement. Your mother 
will parley with them, until I can dispose of the Dark 
Abb6.” 

Alex obeyed with alacrity, while Rob ran lightly 
to the post he had just left. A glance up the road 
showed him the figure of the approaching priest, as 
he was seen through the intersecting branches of the 
96 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 97 

trees lining the roadside. The element of fear never 
existed in the heart of Robert Rogers. The false 
priest had shown himself to be an enemy, not only 
to the peace of the community, but to the safety of 
all honest people. With this thought in his mind, 
he raised his gun to his shoulder, to glance along its 
barrel, as the man came into plain sight under the 
next stretch of moonlight. 

Simultaneously with this action on his part, his 
quick eye caught the uplifting of a hand, and saw 
it move gently and swiftly to and fro, and then drop. 
A smile overspread the set features of Rob, and his 
gun was lowered as quickly as it had been lifted, 
while he murmured, in a tone of relief : 

‘‘ The Woodranger ! 

Concealing his true feelings under that calm indif- 
ference which characterised the men of the frontier, 
Rob returned to his companions in the adjoining 
room. Both mother and son were maintaining a 
close watch over the party of Indians halted under 
the flag of truce. Seeing that the situation here had 
not changed, the young scout said : 

‘‘ Have courage. The Dark Abb6 proves to be a 
friend in disguise. Ha ! there he is at the door. 
Keep a sharp lookout while I let him in.” 

A minute later the Woodranger stood within the 
cottage, the black cassock and hood of the priest still 
concealing his garb of a forester. 


98 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘‘ I am glad to see you, Woodranger,” greeted Rob, 
“ though I cannot say I like that manner of dress. 
Do you know it came near costing you a bit of lead.'* 
It has sarved a good turn, lad, a good turn, 
though I must say it ill becomes the craft o’ the 
man who wears it. I see you are on aidge, lad, and 
that ne’er chase o’ buck nor moose e’er pleased you 
more than this leetle amazement with the red and 
yellow bearers o’ yon pizen rag.” 

So you think there are French among the Indians 
waiting out there } ” asked Rob, though he had come 
to the same conclusion some time before. 

I jedge so, lad. Mebbe I had a better sight at 
’em as I come along, but it’s my idee. The chap 
with the flag is Black Basil, the gunmaker. But lest 
they get onpatient, we must parley with ’em. We 
must keep ’em at arm’s length till succour comes, 
which I believe I’m safe in saying is not a long way 
off.” 

Rob led the way into the room where Mrs. Briant 
and Alex were still keeping vigil over the little group 
on the meadow, the Woodranger following him, bring- 
ing forth from under the priest’s cassock his firearm. 

‘‘ Will you speak to them, Woodranger ? ” asked 
Rob. Or shall Mrs. Briant ? I see they have not 
moved, though the leader acts as if he would like to. 
I have not thought it best to show myself, as I got 
here without their knowing it.” 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 


99 


Which showed good discretion on your part, lad. 
Mebbe, as they know I’m here, it will be best for me 
to have a few words with ’em. As we want to keep 
them at a good distance, mebbe I will just step out- 
side.” 

Opening the door, the forester stepped out into the 
open air, and, after advancing a couple of rods, hailed 
the bearer of the truce, imitating the voice of the 
priest so closely that even Rob, who knew the de- 
ception, was surprised. The effect of the brief dia- 
logue which followed was that the party drew back 
into the shadows of the forest, and the Woodranger 
returned to the cottage. 

They think I have got matters fixed here to suit 
my fancy, and so I have, for that concern. It will 
give us ten minutes, when I have promised to lead 
out the captives — ” 

At this point in his speech the Woodranger 
suddenly found himself met by Mrs. Briant, who had 
given up her post to Rob, when he stopped. Usu- 
ally so indifferent about meeting the gaze of another, 
he looked her squarely in the countenance for a 
moment, and then he started back, as if frightened. 
The pallor of his countenance was not seen under 
the shadow of the priest’s hood, which nearly con- 
cealed it, but he trembled from head to foot, and for 
a short time it seemed as if he would fall. Rob saw 
his sudden weakness and said : 


lOO 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


You are sick, Woodranger ! What has happened ?” 

The voice of his young companion instantly aroused 
him, and he replied, though his voice was not as 
steady as common : 

<‘It's nothing, lad, nothing. Mebbe the air is 
clus ; I feel that way. I must go outside ; I cannot 
stay here. I do not think the varmints will disturb 
you for a leetle spell, but you had better keep 'em 
kivered. I hope you'll pardon an ol' man's weakness, 
but the air be clus — very clus," saying which, the 
Woodranger hastened to the front door, and, standing 
on its threshold, drank in a good long draught of the 
sea-wet air as it came in from Minas Basin. Appar- 
ently forgetful of the danger surrounding them, he 
stood there, until Rob, who could stand the suspense 
no longer, joined him, having left Alex and his mother 
at the lookout. The strange action of his friend and 
his complete disregard for his usual caution had 
alarmed the boy scout, who asked, anxiously, as he 
reached the side of the forester : 

‘‘ Are you better, Woodranger ? " 

Is that you, Rob ? " inquired the Woodranger, 
starting back like one suddenly awakened from a 
deep sleep, but quickly recovering something of his 
composure. Have I been — alack ! now's me, I do 
not disremember, now my memory has called my 
attention to it. It was an awful lack o' jedgment. 
Say, lad," clasping him by the hand, ^‘as you love 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 


lOI 


me, durst think she understood it so ? The air was 
clus, very clus/' 

I do not understand you, Woodranger. I never 
saw you so affected before. Of course Mrs. Briant 
did not notice it. It was I who was surprised.'' 

Thank you, lad, thank you, though I be ashamed 
to look you in the eye. So she is his wife ; and the 
boy and gal are their children } Didst hear me say 
aught that committed me in my weakness } " 

Not a word, Woodranger. But she was anxious 
about you, as I was, and took my place while I came 
to speak to you." 

‘‘ Which was very considerate. And she said no 
more } Let fall no word that might be construed 
into — now's me, how childish I be growing, and for- 
getting this outlandish garb covering me from head 
to foot. Durst know I love it for its deception } 
Lad, there be times when it seems to me that decep- 
tion is a vartue. Say, Rob," renewing his clasp upon 
his young companion's arm, ‘‘you and I have had 
many long perambulations together, sometimes for 
the blessed privilege o' imbibing the free, pure air o' 
the pine-scented forests ; anon bent on some stern 
chase that led us a Joe English " race. In all 'em 

* Joe English was a friendly Indian who once escaped from a 
party of enemies by a leap for life over a high precipice forming 
the side of a rugged eminence, which bears his name, among the 
hills of the Granite State. 


102 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


trails, and cross-trails, and crisscross-trails, didst e’er 
see me too tired o’ foot to do you a favour, or too faint 
o’ heart not to risk myself in your defence ? ” 

Never, Woodranger. A truer friend never 
lived.” 

Nay, nay, lad, it was not that ! I do not desarve 
it, and ’less my good opinion o’ you be shaken, do 
not repeat it. Sich boasting makes us all weak. 
What I had to ask was, — and you’ll not be thinking 
I’m asking too much, seeing I ask it in good faith, — 
promise to forgive and forget the ol’ man this indis- 
cretion, blameful though it may be. You’ll promise, 
lad ? The air was clus, very clus.” 

Without fully understanding what his companion 
meant, Rob clasped his hand firmly, saying : 

“ I know of nothing to forgive or to forget, but I 
promise on my sacred honour to do both.” 

** And never mention it to any person ? And if 
she should mention, which I do not believe she will, 
— mind you, I only surmise this, — you will recall 
nothing I said or did which will fix it in her mind ? ” 
I promise all, Woodranger. Now I want you to 
tell what has happened since we parted, and what we 
are to do.” 

I was coming to that, lad, I was. Talking does 
make one forget.” 

The Woodranger then briefly described to Rob his 
second visit to Le Noir's smithy, and how he had 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 


103 


taken Wallace Briant to the home of Benedict le 
Fontaine. As the reader is in ignorance of his follow- 
ing adventures, it would only be justice to him that 
the forester’s story should be recorded from the time 
he reached the home of the Acadian farmer to his 
appearance, in the guise of the Dark Abb^, at the 
Briant cottage. 

Well, as I was saying, or rather as I was going 
to say — how flustered I be! Now’s me, to begin 
over ag’in, Benedict hailed me with joy, and wouldst 
fain have pulled me into the house that I might sup 
with him and the notary, Jean Hebert. But when I 
tol’ him o’ my comrade, he grew discreet, which I set 
down as a good sign. I tol’ him o’ friend Briant’s 
predicament, keeping back sich parts ’bout ourselves 
as my jedgment counselled me. He soon showed me 
he was no ways the liker o’ the Dark Abb6, and 
more’n that, the priest is losing favour in Grand Pre. 
Father Fafard does not prove o’ sich wanton ways, 
and finally Benedict promised to trail with Briant, 
even to harbouring him if that became necessary. 
Then he asked me to keep under kiver till he could 
talk with Jean Hebert and see how the stick floated 
with him. 

The notary public, whom I’m free to set down as 
a purty righteous sort o’ a man, ’greed to help us in 
this amazement. He was the more free to do this 
when I tol’ him a part o’ what I’d overheerd in Le 


104 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Noir’s smithy. This all goes to prove me that the 
more discreet neutrals are fair and above mark in 
this scrimmage. We, arter talking the ’fair over, 
decided that it would be better for Briant and his 
family to get away from Grand Pre to-night. He 
thinks they will be tolarable safe at a settlement of 
Scotch people on the Barney River. You and I are 
to go up the basin and then the Subenacadie River 
with them, and then take a cross-cut for Main-a-Dieu. 
Briant thought one Jean Vallie would go with us, 
and Benedict sent a messenger to find this Basque, 
who lives on one of the small rivers above here. We 
are to pick him up as we go along. 

‘‘Both Benedict and Jean Hebert were determined 
to call in the village priest, which course I was free to 
call an indiscretion. I was very free to acquaint them 
with my idee, but let ’em foller the trail as they had set 
the stick. While the priest was coming, Briant, at the 
’vice o’ Benedict, had the notary make out papers put- 
ting his property into the hands o’ one o’ the neutrals. 
No Micmac will run counter to an Acadian, and I could 
see this was like hitting the bull’s-eye with a good gun 
at sixty paces. When Briant comes back ag’in, arter 
the storm has blown over, he will have his home safe 
and sound. 

“ By that time Father Fafard came, and I’m free to 
say that I found him agreeabler than I expected. 
What set me a-liking the man was his way of speaking 


OUTWITTING THE ENEMY. 


105 


right out. As soon as I Tamed this I could see that 
my prejudice had warped my jedgment, and that 
Benedict and the notary were in the right. I ain’t 
one to dam the waters o’ a clear stream, especially 
when that stream be the one along which I’ve got to 
paddle my own canoe, and told him o’ my prefarment 
and my prejudice, which seemed to set him in good 
humour. Being clever in sich doings, as well as in 
praying, he fixed up Briant’s wound, not but what I 
had done a good job under the circumstances. I think 
I may be pardoned in saying this much for myself. 

“While the priest was doing this, the rest o’ us 
pieced out a plan by which we could carcumvent the 
inemy and get Briant on to a boat at the mouth o’ the 
Gasper eau. Benedict showed a cunning which I am 
free took my jedgment. He said he was expected 
to take a load o’ barley straw in the morning down 
to mend a break in the dike, and that the stuff was 
already loaded on one o’ his ox-wains. His plan was 
to take Briant in the midst o ’ the litter to the boat- 
landing near the river. He would have to go past 
Briant’s home, and under pretence o’ putting on 
more straw could secrete his wife and boy and garl on 
the cart. If any one, as in all likelihood there would 
be, should see him starting at this unseemly hour, he 
would jedge that the dike had grown leakier so fast 
that Benedict durst not wait till morning, and think 
nothing strange o’ the trip. 


I06 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

‘‘ The priest being as much concerned as any one, 
and willing to take hold like a man, to carcumvent 
the Dark Ahh6 in his plotting and killing, I could see 
that I was ne'er needed to help make the start. So 
I left 'em to perambulate ahead, and see what amaze- 
ment was working with you. Now I'm coming to the 
queerest part o' my tale, which I'm taking a deal o' 
time to tell. 

‘‘Just as I was coming down the lane, which was 
darkened by the shadows o' the trees overhanging the 
path, I suddenly found myself beset by that blameful 
priest. I see that he was in 'arnest, so I don't pro- 
fess to say that I hild back a bit. I just clubbed ol' 
Danger, and sooner than a squirrel could shake his 
tail I dropped the ol' feller at my feet. My first 
thought was to leave him there as he had fell, but a 
bit o' cunning came into my head, and I see how I 
could make something out o' this amazement to our 
good. So I took off his long black gown and put it 
on myself. Then I put on his cap. Having done 
this, and finding him coming to, I took the liberty to 
tie up his hands and feet, and stuffed his mouth full 
o' cloth. Then, arter pulling him out of the path, I 
came down here. And, as I say it, here comes good 
Benedict with his ox-wain loaded with barley straw." 


CHAPTER XI. 


THE FUGITIVES. 

The history of the colonial wars is largely a record 
of long and arduous marches by the opposing forces 
through trackless forests, in order to make an attack 
on some isolated garrison or settlement, that the 
fortunes of the warlike hosts demanded should be 
captured and held. In a yet more fearful manner is 
the biography of the colonists filled with perilous and 
hazardous flights from home at the sudden appear- 
ance of the savage enemy ; or with those still more 
trying and terrible journeys as captives in the power 
of merciless captors ; or. Providence permitting that 
they should succeed in escaping their captors, with 
the sufferings and hardships of a hundred-mile flight 
through an unbroken wilderness, beset by wild beasts 
and pursued by revengeful foes. 

The intended flight of the Briant family was thus 
no exception to the general trend of the times, and 
they submitted to the inevitable with unflinching 
fortitude. Benedict had not trusted any one to drive 
the oxen for him, so that he was walking beside the 
107 


I 08 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

slow-moving wain as it entered the yard in front of 
the cottage where the Woodranger and Rob Rogers 
were anxiously awaiting its approach. 

‘‘ Lend such assistance as you can, lad,'' said the 
forester. ‘‘ I will keep a watch over the prowling 
heathens to see that they do not steal an amazement 
on us. Have the woman take all the food she has on 
hand, for there is nothing like being prepared for 
what may happen." 

With these words the Woodranger turned away, 
and Rob went to apprise Mrs. Briant of the under- 
taking ahead. She had already expected that flight 
of some kind would have to be made, and now, know- 
ing that her husband was able to go with her, she 
began her preparations with calmness and alacrity. 
And while she quickly gathered together the few 
things she wished to take with her, Benedict and 
Rob, assisted some by Alex, who was helping both 
them and his mother, brought out the barley straw 
they wished to add to the load. The wain had been 
purposely left near to the house, and as soon as possible 
Mrs. Briant was allowed to ascend by a short ladder, 
under the covering of barley straw held over her 
head by the forks in the hands of Benedict le Fon- 
taine and Rob Rogers. In the same way Alex and 
Mab gained the load, when more straw was pitched 
over them, and such things thrown up as they wished 
to take. 


THE FUGITIVES. 


109 


Benedict closed the door, scratched up with the 
fork a few of the scattered straws, and telling Rob to 
keep close beside the loaded wain, he picked up his 
goad-stick, calling loudly to the oxen to move on. 
The flight was begun. 

As Rob was looking anxiously around for the 
Woodranger, the latter came swiftly and silently to 
his side, saying : 

‘‘I have been thinking very fast, lad, and I have 
a leetle argyment to offer at this perticular time. 
We’ve come to the neutral grounds on private busi- 
ness, and I’m the last person that’s going to desart 
the man who has confidenced me with some perticu- 
lar work. In that line o’ reasoning it be our duty to 
look arter the interests o’ Captain Vaughan before we 
run haphazard into an amazement for a stranger. 
But I ’low there be delicate p’ints in this matter 
which do not float on the surface like a stick. The 
captain’s business can wait a few weeks. I have al- 
ready hinted some things to Benedict, and he says he 
will look arter some matters for us. But I can’t keep 
’em poor settlers at Main-a-Dieu out’n my mind. 
Now the p’int I wish to ask you to settle is this : 
Shall we remain here, or go to Main-i-Dieu helping 
along the Briants as we can } ” 

‘‘I am with you, Woodranger, in whatever you 
decide. But I am in favour of going to Main-a-Dieu.” 

‘‘ I knew it, lad, I knew it. Well, it shall be so. 


I lO 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


And there is another snarl in my string o' knots 
which I want to unkink. There is likely to be — 
and mind you I ne’er like to prod a hornet’s nest just 
to hear the critters buzz — a hot chase for the Briants. 
So I have minded that it might be wiser for you and 
me to separate. By that I design that you keep 
along with ’em, while I will take a light canoe and 
sort o’ trail behind. I will keep a lookout for the 
reds, and be on hand in case I be needed.” 

Though this plan was a complete surprise to Rob, 
he knew his companion too well to offer any objec- 
tions. If he guessed that the Woodranger had a 
motive he did not care to mention in proposing this 
plan, he was wise enough not to suggest it. 

It shall be as you say, Woodranger, and I know 
you will be on hand if you should be needed.” 

This seemed to arouse a new thought in the 
forester’s mind, for he caught Rob’s hand with an 
impetuosity quite foreign to his nature, exclaiming : 

You don’t think the ol’ man means to shirk his 
part, lad } ” 

‘‘ I should never think that of you for a moment. 
I believe your way is best, and I will do as you 
say.” 

Thank you, lad, thank you. I knew I could 
depend on you. I’ll risk you, too, where an ol’ man 
might — mind you, I say might — fail. But always 
remember, lad, that the experience o’ years counts for 


THE FUGITIVES. 


1 1 1 


more in the sum o* knots than the zeal o’ untried 
youth.” 

At that moment the musical notes of a bird perched 
in the topmost branches of a moon-silvered poplar 
fell on their ears, and as the inimitable song rang 
out sweetly on the Acadian scene, the Woodranger 
declared : 

Such songs fill my heart with peace. I hail it as 
a good omen. Adieu, lad, adieu.” 

Silently grasping his hand, Rob lost no further 
time in following after the loaded wain, which was 
now some distance away, pursuing singularly enough 
the same path to the mouth of the Gaspereau that 
the exiled Acadians were destined to follow, eleven 
years later, while being escorted by their captors 
to the vessels lying at anchor but a short distance 
below the place where our fugitives were expecting 
to take their boat. 

The journey to the seashore was uneventful, though 
as Benedict finally stopped the oxen at the landing- 
place, the report of a gun reached their ears, and Rob 
thought he heard the cries of a mob of men. But of 
this he was not quite sure. The thought at once 
came into his mind that the Woodranger had met 
with the enemy. He was confident the report was 
that of his firearm. As the little party listened the 
sound of several shots fired in rapid succession came 
to them, and Benedict le Fontaine exclaimed : 


1 12 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


^‘The old ranger has got into trouble, and like 
enough the horde will be down this way ! Here, 
Monsieur Rogers, lend a hand/' 

Alex had already sprung to the ground, and his 
mother and sister were quickly assisted from the 
loaded wain. It was a more difficult task to lift Mr. 
Briant from his hiding-place in the middle of the load, 
but Rob and Le Fontaine proved equal to the task. 
While they were doing it Mrs. Briant thoughtfully 
placed some of the straw in the bottom of the boat, 
making a comfortable resting-place for her husband. 

The boat belonged to Benedict, and was fortunately 
large enough to receive the things they had taken 
with them, and give plenty of room for the occupants. 
No sounds came from the direction of the town now, 
but the farmer was both anxious that the party should 
push out from the land and that he might get away 
from the spot before they should be discovered. 

‘‘I am sorry there is no more I can do for you. 
Friend Briant, but I wish you a safe journey and a 
speedy return. Believe me, I shall think of you, and 
I will keep an eye out to see that Francois looks 
well after your home." 

For all of your kindness. Neighbour Le Fontaine, 
you have my sincere thanks, if I am never able to 
repay you in any more substantial manner," replied 
the Acadian ranger, who was bearing up as best he 
could with the great pain he was suffering. am 


THE FUGITIVES. 


II3 

quite sure that we have got a start of the Micmacs, 
and that we shall keep ahead of them. I am sure 
Jean Vallie will be on hand at the Avon. Peace and 
happiness, good Benedict.” 

A moment later the farmer was driving his ox-wain 
along the shore, while Rob and Alex took up the pad- 
dles to begin their long and perilous journey. The 
latter had, at the request of Rob, taken the bow, 
while the other stationed himself at the stern. Little 
seas slapped the sides of the boat as they steered up 
the basin. The moon shone as brightly as ever, 
though there were signs of clouds in the west. 

The events of the past few hours had crowded so 
rapidly, one upon another, that to Mrs. Briant it 
seemed like a fearful dream, and she was silent, as 
well as her husband, who lay on his pallet of straw, 
wan and worn. Rob and Alex, intent on their row- 
ing, were silent also, so nothing was said during the 
passage to the mouth of the Avon, where they were 
expecting to find Jean Vallie waiting for them. 

This Basque settlement was considered to be a part 
of Grand Pre, though removed by a distance of three 
miles. At a word from Alex, for Rob knew nothing 
of the country, he steered the boat into the wide- 
mouthed river, with its marshes reaching back into 
the country and its broad belt of shallow water, where 
it let loose its flood into the basin. 

It was now past midnight, and the silence of that 


I 14 the young gunbearer, 

solemn hour hung over the little village of farmers, a 
solitary light being all that was seen. Mr. Briant 
now rallied enough to take a survey of the scene, 
saying, as he saw the cottage light : 

‘‘Jean's home is farther up the river on the left 
bank. As he is nowhere in sight, we can do no better 
than to paddle up to his place, as serious as the loss 
of time may prove to us. I am afraid the messenger 
has failed to find him." 

“ How far is it to his house ? " asked Rob. 

“ About half a mile. Strange I haven't thought 
of it before, but I have a presentment he is not at 
home." 


CHAPTER XIL 


A STOUT ARM. 

It often happens that when we feel the most 
despondent hope is nearest, as the night is darkest 
just before the dawn of a new day. Briant had 
barely given expression to his discouraging words, 
when the keen eyes of Robert Rogers discovered 
the hazy outlines of a canoe in the distance up the 
river. As this object grew rapidly in size and clear- 
ness, it was seen that it was being propelled down 
the stream by powerful strokes from its single occu- 
pant. The hearts of the little party of fugitives beat 
very fast, as they checked their advance to watch 
the approaching stranger. Alex soon broke the 
silence by exclaiming : 

‘‘It is Jean! See! he is paddling as if his life 
depended on getting here in the quickest time 
possible.'' 

“I think you are right, my son," replied his 
father. “ It is Jean, faithful fellow, and we can do 
no better than to wait for him to come along." 

Their suspense was of short duration, for it was 

115 


Il6 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

but a few minutes before the canoe shot alongside 
their boat. The occupant was a small, wiry-framed 
man, clad in leathern coat and leggins, with a tight- 
fitting woollen cap upon his bullet-shaped head. 
Two pistols were stuck in his belt, while a whinger 
lay in the bottom of the canoe. His dark counte- 
nance — the Basques were of darker skin than the 
Acadians — now bore an anxious expression, though 
the natural good humour of this alert individual was 
evident in each feature. It is proper to add here, 
which no doubt will be learned later on, that if Jean 
Vallie could not boast of his size, he could claim an 
endurance and strength that few, if any, could equal. 
His greeting rang with the cheer of a rare good 
fellowship, as he said : 

Good evening. Monsieur Briant ; what ill news is 
this which has reached me } 

‘‘The Micmacs, urged on by some of the French, 
are on the war-path, good Jean, and they have 
selected me and my family as their first example. 
My friends have advised me to flee to a place of 
greater safety than Grand Pre. As I have been 
hard hit by a French bullet, I was fain to consent. 
We are on our way to Fordhaven, and we are in a 
strait for more help.'* 

“ I wish I had known it,'* said Vallie, promptly. 
“ Louis le Grande, my cousin, would have gladly lent 
his arm at my request. If there is time I will find 


A STOUT ARM, 


II7 


him at once. It will not delay more than half an 
hour.’’ 

‘‘Nay, good Jean, it is your own stout arm we 
need. That is all-sufficient.” 

“And that is yours already, as you must know. 
Is it your plan to keep on to Cobequid 1 ” 

“It is, Jean. And you will have to set your 
canoe in ashore, for we shall need you at the oars 
here.” 

“With your permission. Monsieur Briant, I will 
secure it behind the other. It will not add much to 
our labours, it is so light, and it may come in handy 
by and by. One can never tell what will happen.” 

This idea was favourably considered by the others, 
and Jean at once carried his plan into effect. This 
done, he climbed into the larger canoe, saying : 

“ I am under your orders, monsieur, only I wish 
to suggest that we move along as rapidly as possible. 
I am no weather-wise if there is not going to be a 
storm within four and twenty hours.” 

“We must move with as little delay as possible, 
Jean, and I am going to leave the command with 
you entirely. This young man here,” indicating our 
hero, “is Robert Rogers from New England, and 
he has shown himself a true friend in thus assisting 
me.” 

“ Good cheer to you. Monsieur Rogers,” greeted 
Jean Vallie, extending his right hand, which, as it 


Il8 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

clasped that of the boy scout, closed in a vise-like grip. 
But the hand of Rob had muscles of iron, and, finding 
the purpose of the other was to test him, he concen- 
trated the strength of his strong forearm for that 
handshake, which made the sturdy Basque wince, 
while an exclamation of pain left his lips. 

‘‘What is the trouble, Jean } '' asked Briant. 

^^Ouch! he has a grip of steel. He’ll do, mon- 
sieur.” 

“ So you have found your match for once, Jean } ” 
said Briant, with a smile. “ I imagine you and he 
will pull well together.” 

“Port your helm,” said Jean; “stand straight out 
to sea.” 

Rob now took Alex’s place in the bow, while the 
latter, somewhat against his wishes, was told to rest 
awhile, until he might be needed to relieve one of 
the others. Jean Vallie took the stern paddle. 
Mr. Briant, who declared that he felt much better, 
and wanted to be bolstered up so he could watch the 
surroundings, was made as comfortable as possible, 
while his wife, Alex, and Mab sat beside him. 

The tide being now on the ebb, they were obliged 
to steer farther out into the bay than they had at the 
start, and already a wide strip of red and yellow and 
brown mud lay between them and the land, with its 
green fringe of forest. As if to warrant Jean in his 
prediction of a storm, thin clouds were already veil- 


A STOUT ARM, 


1 19 

ing the night sky, so their view was curtailed con- 
siderably. 

When the canoe was once more headed nearly 
southward, and they were fairly started on their 
journey, Rob Rogers cast a sweeping gaze behind, 
in the hope that he might catch sight of the Wood- 
ranger. He did discover in the distance a small craft 
which seemed to be putting in toward the landing of 
the Gaspereau ; but nowhere was anything to be 
seen of the forester. Knowing that his friend was 
amply capable of taking care of himself, however, 
Rob did not let this fact give him undue concern, 
and as stoutly and willingly as Jean Vallie did he 
lend his arm to the work of sending the canoe flying 
along the swishing tide, the steady dip of their pad- 
dles keeping time to the low murmur of the reced- 
ing waters. 

Briant was in better spirits than he had been since 
he had fallen helpless on the threshold of Le Noir's 
smithy, and he urged Mrs. Briant and Mab to im- 
prove the opportunity to try and sleep. This they 
declared was impossible, and the family fell into con- 
versation, which naturally referred to their present 
condition. 

I cannot blame the Acadian very much, except 
for his blindness to his own interest,’' said Briant, 
‘‘ even if he has turned against me, when I have ever 
tried to be his friend. French rule is never content 


120 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


to see its subjects thrive. Acadia, under the British, 
has experienced an era of prosperity, and yet its people, 
at least many of them, fail to see that it is better to 
serve a king who does not profess to love them, but 
who is willing to let them alone, to one who refers 
to her in terms of endearment, while he filches her 
pockets of the last livre. Acadia is blind to her own 
interest, and while I lay no claim to being a prophet, 
if she continues to cling to her ancient traditions they 
will pull her down into a gulf of misery. 

‘‘I feel safe in saying that the whole of New 
France stands to-day on the brink of disaster, for the 
reason that her population lacks the direct application 
of purpose that is the ruling passion of the English. 
The two can never live together in harmony. Now 
that this stupendous plot of the French government 
is on foot to banish every English settler from New 
England and New York soil, the strife will wax more 
bitter than ever. 

It is not France alone, nor yet the Church, which 
is making all this trouble. It is unscrupulous men, 
such as was Thury, the plotting priest, and now Bigot 
the intendant, and Le Petite, the Dark Abbe, his 
willing tool in all his schemes for personal gains. 
This visit of the abb6 to Acadia at this time portends 
trouble to many, if not all. Unless the Acadians see 
their mistake and renounce such leaders as Le Petite 
soon, a dark day will come for these misguided 


A STOUT ARM. 


I2I 


people. Another thing I do not like about this war- 
fare, and that is the willingness with which those 
Acadians, who lend their assistance to the French, 
join the Micmacs in their war-paint and feathers. 
It is natural, perhaps, that the disfranchised seignior 
and the hopeless habitant should see in the fancied 
liberty of the red man the realisation of his own 
dreams, but he makes a sad mistake when he follows 
the Indian’s methods of winning that freedom.” 

^‘How dark it has grown,” said Alex, as his father 
finished speaking. A thick mist is settling over the 
bay.” 

Rob Rogers at that moment stopped his paddling, 
and motioned for Jean Vallie to do the same. 


CHAPTER XIII. 

A LONG LEAP. 

“ Anything wrong, Robert ? '' asked Briant, anx- 
iously, as the boat, no longer urged forward by the 
strong strokes of the rowers, drifted leisurely with 
the tide. 

As Alex had said, a mist had fallen on the water, 
which, with the fact that the moon had now sunk 
below the distant ridge of mountains, made it quite 
dark. It being ebb tide, they had been forced to leave 
the shore so far to their right that it was not to be 
seen. In fact, for sometime Rob and Jean had been 
advancing with extreme caution, and now the latter, 
as well as Mr. Briant, anxiously awaited the boy 
ranger’s explanation of his signal to stop. Rob, being 
in the bow of the boat, had made a discovery which 
might prove of no slight moment to their future 
actions. His reply, spoken in a low, guarded tone, 
was : 

‘‘I am very sure I heard the dip of oars ahead. Is 
there any cove or stream out from which a craft 
might come ? ” 


122 


A LONG LEAP, 


123 


‘*We must be close down to the mouth of the 
Petite,” replied Jean. I have kept as close a calcu- 
lation as I could, and I was thinking that, when you 
asked me to stop paddling.” 

‘‘That explains it,” said Rob, in the same cautious 
voice. “I was sure a boat had put out from the 
shore or some inland water just in front of us. Hark ! 
I caught the sound of a paddle then. It is not far 
ahead.” 

“ We cannot move too carefully, then, until we find 
out who they are,” declared Briant. “Oh, if I was 
only well rid of this wound.” 

“Are there settlers along this coast } ” asked Rob. 

“A dozen or more habitants live just south of the 
Petite,” replied Briant. “What think you, Jean, 
would they be likely to fall in with the abb6 } ” 

“More'n likely, monsieur. Have you any idea 
how many might be in the canoe ahead of us. Mon- 
sieur Rogers } ” 

“ ril warrant you not less than half a dozen. 
They seem to be pulling along at a good rate, for I 
cannot hear their oars now.” 

“I can see no other course for us than to keep 
along quietly behind them,” said Jean. “ Any 
attempt to pass them would be sure to bring us 
disaster.” 

“ If that must be our plan, let us see to it that we 
do not let them discover us,” said Briant. “If they 


124 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


should prove to belong to the party bound for Main-a- 
Dieu it is going to make a serious complication.’' 

The others had already foreseen this, and a short 
consultation followed, as to what was best to do, the 
prevailing opinion being that they could do no better 
than to keep quietly in the rear of the unseen boat. 
After resting on their oars a few minutes, Rob and 
Jean resumed their paddling. But in less than five 
minutes Rob again called for another stop. 

‘‘ I can hear them again,” he said. ‘‘ They are 
moving more leisurely now. Besides the steady dip 
of their paddles I can hear the murmur of voices.” 

His companions now all declared that they could 
hear the sounds of the party ahead, Briant saying : 

‘‘ The want of caution with which they are proceed- 
ing seems to show that they do not belong to a 
war-party.” 

That may be true, monsieur ; or, if they are on the 
war-path, that they do not deem themselves far enough 
started to move with the caution which will be neces- 
sary later. Will it not be better for us to run in 
ashore for a brief stop } With a clear coast ahead, 
we can soon make up for it.” 

‘‘If we should do that,” said Rob, “one of us 
could take the light canoe and sort of scout out and 
find who they are.” 

This plan met the hearty approval of both Briant 
and Jean, who, true woodsmen as they were, knew 


A LONG LEAP. 


125 


the importance of moving with extreme caution. So 
the canoe was headed by the Basque in the direction 
of the Petite River, which emptied its waters into the 
bay off that point. So well did the steersman shape 
his course, that in a few minutes Rob found that they 
were fairly entering the channel of the stream. 

Though the mist hung too darkly about them to 
allow even a narrow view of their surroundings, Jean 
was perfectly familiar with their situation, and he 
could have scarcely steered in a clear day in a more 
direct course for a sheltered spot on the right bank 
of the stream than he did in the gloom of that early 
morning. As the boat grated on the bottom of the 
river, Rob sprang out and the craft was quickly 
grounded, and the occupants safe for the time at 
least from the searching gaze of their enemies. 

Now if you will let me have the use of your 
canoe, which you so thoughtfully took with you, Jean, 
I will make a little detour to see if I can learn any- 
thing of those who have gone up the bay ahead of 
us,’' proposed Rob, as soon as the stop had been 
fairly made. 

Jean Vallie, of course, readily agreed, though he 
would have gladly performed the mission himself. 
Still, he was honest enough not to object, and a 
moment later Rob disappeared down the stream, his 
last words having been for the others, if he did not 
return inside of half an hour, to act independently of 


126 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


him. So the little party of fugitives made themselves 
as comfortable as possible during the interval of wait- 
ing. As it was then so near daylight, when they 
might not have another opportunity to eat, and their 
recent exertions having given them an appetite, the 
supply of bacon and barley bread was brought forth, 
and all ate a hasty breakfast. 

‘‘ If the boy brings us back good tidings,'' said Mr. 
Briant, and we have a clear path, we ought to make 
the Subenacadie River before sundown." 

‘‘Yes, if the storm does not hinder us. That will 
give us the night-time in which to pass Fort Alli- 
ance," near the fork of the Stewiacke, which is a 
French and Indian stronghold, and the most danger- 
ous point of our journey. I shouldn't like to get 
caught there as a friend and I did above Cape Split 
once." 

“A story, Jean.^^ Let us hear it while we wait," 
said Mr. Briant. 

“ It doesn't amount to much in telling. Monsieur 
Briant, and I am a poor story-teller, but the whole 
adventure impressed itself so on my mind then that 
the minutest detail has never left my memory. It 
was thirty-four years ago last spring, and I was then 
a youth of twenty. I suppose I was fiery then, but 
I think there was reason for an awakening of what 
zeal one had for his homeland. I was living at Grand 

* Afterward re-named Fort Ellis. 


A LONG LEAP. 


127 


Pre then, in a cottage not far from where yours now 
stands, monsieur, when the fire-eaters came from 
Massachusetts under the lead of that scourge of 
the peaceful Acadiens, Captain Church, and his 
band of despoilers, who, with a gun in one hand 
and a torch in the other, blighted the fairest scene 
my eyes ever rested upon. 

‘‘ These despoilers, without any warning, fell upon 
Grand Pre, and in one short hour the fair meadows 
and peaceful homes were blasted. I was among the 
first to get word of their coming, and, seizing my 
weapons, rushed out to help defend the town. But 
it was like fighting the whirlwind. The cottages of 
the upper end of the town were already in flames 
and the occupants fleeing, some of them half-naked, 
to the woods. I was young, and I made up my mind 
I would never flee, but fight till the last. 

‘‘1 know more than one Englishman went down 
before my fire, but I finally found myself, with a 
handful of others, driven back inch by inch to the 
seashore. My companions scattered and took to 
the woods, leaving me alone with an old man, who 
had been sorely wounded in the knee. I knew him 
well, as I should, he being of the same race as my- 
self. He begged of me not to desert him. Within 
plain sight of us that moment was a whole family 
being put to death in cold blood because they would 
not be false to their hearts' dictates. 


128 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘‘You need not describe to me the horrors of 
Indian warfare. What I witnessed that day outdid 
the greatest cruelty a bloodthirsty Micmac can con- 
trive to do. At any rate, I heeded the supplications 
of good Michel le Vergie, and looked about for the 
most feasible way of escape. Michel could not travel 
any, so, seeing a canoe on the shore just above, I ran 
to get it. Escaping the bullets of a dozen guns, I 
sprang into the canoe and, paddling down to where 
my friend was waiting for me, took him in, and then 
began my flight down the bay. I think it would have 
fared better with me if I had gone the other way. 
But once I had started, there was no turning back. 

“ I afterward learned that the English were going 
to make an attack on a settlement down the bay, so 
in giving us chase they were not going out of their 
way, though they did before they got through. 

“ Good Michel soon proved himself better than two 
dead men, for he seized a paddle, and, in spite of the 
pain in his knee, did such good work that the English 
could not gain a foot on us. But they did have one 
advantage. Being so many of them, they could keep 
up a noisy fire upon us, while we were obliged to 
forego any reply. This rankled in Michel’s breast so 
much, that finally I told him I could hold my own 
with the hounds, if he wanted to return their fire. 

“ I was too busy to see the expression on the old 
man’s swarthy face, but I heard him chuckle as he 


A LONG LEAP, 


129 


exchanged the paddle for his battle-scarred firearm. 
A moment later its sharp report rang out, and right 
after it I heard a cry of pain from the foremost 
canoe, and knew he had not wasted the shot. But 
the shot cost us dear. A volley from the English 
whistled uncomfortably near, and one bullet made 
a flesh-wound in Michel's arm, while another tore a 
bad hole in the side of the canoe. 

‘‘ Michel soon mended this, and thus we kept on 
down past Blow-me-down, with the English close 
upon our heels. The wounded arm of my companion 
now pained him as badly as his knee, and made it 
impossible for him to lend me any real assistance in 
paddling the canoe. By that time I was beginning 
to feel that it must end in a hopeless fight, when I 
suggested to Michel that we ground the canoe near 
Minas Point and conceal ourselves in the woods. 
Another shot striking the canoe at that moment 
caused my friend to agree with me, though he wanted 
me to leave him behind to meet his fate at the hands 
of the enemy. 

‘‘I would not do that, and the moment the canoe 
grounded I lifted him upon my back and ran as fast 
as I could toward the forest. But there was quite 
an opening for us to cross, where I knew the Eng- 
lish would rake us with a volley. So, instead of fol- 
lowing the course I had at first intended, I kept 
along under the cover of a ridge of rock, until I 


130 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

found myself a few minutes later upon a narrow neck 
running out to a bold front of rock overhanging the 
Narrows, and which now bears my name. 

‘‘ I didn't know the place then as I do now, and 
thinking I could make a successful defence against 
the enemies from the cliff, I followed in that direc- 
tion. Upon reaching the top, and finding that fur- 
ther flight was cut off by a sheer precipice of fully 
two hundred feet, I turned at bay. I counted ten 
of the English, and I do not think my courage will 
be doubted if I say that I trembled for the result. 
If I had been alone I would not have cared, but 
poor Michel was quite helpless. Stunted trees were 
growing at places, and, bidding him to conceal him- 
self as much as possible, I took a position where I 
could command the best view of the approach to our 
retreat. 

After a short consultation, the English approached 
the narrow strip of rock leading to the cliff, and I 
fired. A moment later Michel’s gun pealed out its 
loud report, and a second of the enemy was no longer 
to be counted in the fight. But this aroused the 
others, who started toward us at a run. I sprang to 
the side of Michel, who was near the edge of the 
rock. Looking down, I saw a ledge ten feet below 
overhung by the shelving cliff. I believed we could 
defend ourselves better there, while at the top we 
must soon fall victims to the English. 


A LONG LEAP. 


I3I 

Seizing hold of one of the slender saplings, I 
helped Michel to slip down upon the rim of rock, 
though his weight uprooted the tree, and he fell in a 
heap on the ledge. But I was quick of foot, and, 
just as a volley from the English filled the space 
where I had stood, I dropped upon the narrow shelf 
of rock below. 

‘‘Michel had not been injured by his tumble, and, 
both of us getting back under the side of the cliff as 
far as possible, we listened for the movements of our 
enemies. I saw the head of one peering over the 
top, and I was tempted to send a bullet into it, only 
I hadn't yet reloaded my weapon. But it was better 
as it was, for pretty soon we heard them say that we 
had no doubt fallen into the sea and been killed by the 
tremendous fall, for it was more than two hundred 
feet down to the water. We judged that they waited 
around there for some time, but after they had gone 
away we found that we had escaped them only to ^ 
get into another situation quite as serious. 

“ Look where we would, we could find no chance 
to ascend to the top of the cliff, while there was no 
foothold below as far as we could see. As it was 
then well on in the afternoon, and our foes were 
probably lurking somewhere in the vicinity, we de- 
cided to remain quietly where we were until morning. 

I looked to my companion's wounds, and bandaged 
them as best I could. A stiff sea-breeze set in at 


132 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


dark, and, as it was still early in the season, we 
suffered not a little from the cold. 

“When the tedious night had worn away, poor 
Michel was suffering great agony. His limbs had 
swollen to double their size, and he persisted in say- 
ing that he should never live to reach home, even if 
I did. While we lay there waiting for the sun to 
come up so I could make a more thorough examina- 
tion of our positions, Michel, to keep his mind from his 
injuries, told me much I had not known of our people. 
While we were considered to belong to the Acadiens, 
we were of an older, and, according to his ideas, a 
more honourable race. He spoke at great length upon 
the antiquity of our people, and traced our lineage 
back to a people once inhabiting all of southern 
Europe. He said our ancestors were great naviga- 
tors, who made long voyages into far-away seas. 
Michel was well educated, and he talked these things 
very glibly. He told how they used to make whal- 
ing voyages to this coast long before Columbus dis- 
covered America, or even before the vikings of old 
Iceland sailed along these shores. Jacques Cartier, 
himself a Basque, found several ships belonging to 
Basque fishermen .in the mouth of the St. Lawrence. 
They called this entire coast at that time, two hun- 
dred years ago, Bucalaos, which meant codfish. How 
the old man's eyes sparkled as he told me about this, 
and explained that our race was as old on this land 


A LONG LEAP. 


133 


as the red men ! He charged me to remember this, 
and I have. Since then I have learned from others 
living at Gaspe that he was right. 

‘‘I need not tell you how anxiously Michel and 
I scanned the side of the precipice as soon as it was 
light enough to do so in the morning. But we were 
rewarded with no sign of hope. Here and there 
were irregular projections on the side of the rock, 
but in all the sheer descent of more than two hun- 
dred feet there was no shelf where we could hope to 
gain a foothold. The top was near, — so near, — but 
we had no way to reach it, as the rock overhung us, 
and there was no chance to get a finger-hold in its 
flinty surface. 

We waited till nearly night in the hope some one 
might come along who would lend us his assistance ; 
but when the sun had sunk behind our backs, and the 
cliff was throwing long shadows out over the strait, 
we decided on the* only course open to us. That was 
to jump into the sea ! 

I do not think Michel had any hope of escape, 
but it would end his sufferings, which were intense. 
As the distance was so great, it was thought best to 
make as long a line as we could of our clothing, and, 
after descending the length of this rope, drop into 
the water. Accordingly I cut our jackets and leg- 
gings into strips, which I fastened together, until I 
had a line of a goodly length. I then took our waist- 


134 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


coats, in fact everything that would add to the rope, 
and when the pieces were all fastened together let 
one end down. It lacked a long way of reaching 
the bottom. How much it was I could not tell. 

It took longer to make the rope than I had ex- 
pected, so it was getting quite dark on the water as I 
dropped the line. Michel was to go first. In his con- 
dition it could not be otherwise. I was to lower him 
down as far as the rope would let me, and then he was 
to cut the rope under his arms, and take the fearful fall. 
As we had but one knife, I would have to descend the 
line hand over hand, until I reached the end. 

Although I was young, I was strong in my arms, 
and I lowered Michel easily enough down — down. 
We had not stopped for leave-taking. Somehow we 
didn’t have the heart for that, for I was sure that 
we should never meet again alive. I felt his hand 
press mine in a clasp that I seem to feel now. I 
turned aside my head that he might not be weakened 
by the sight of my tears. 

"^When the end of the rope was reached, I mus- 
tered courage to look down upon my friend. How 
small he looked, dangling in mid-air like a fly. I saw 
a gleam of the knife blade, and then poor Michel’s 
body shot downward. The sight held me with a 
horrible fascination, until I heard a dull splash of 
water, and my friend had disappeared. I now realised 
that it was farther down to the water from the end 


A LONG LEAF. 


135 


of the rope than I had estimated. I watched in vain 
for another sight of my companion. I believed that 
it would be certain death for me to follow him. 

“ No man ever called me a coward, but for a time 
my courage failed me. But every moment I lost 
was valuable to me, for the reason that the tide was 
ebbing. In a few hours the rocky bottom of the bay 
would lie below me. So I rallied, and with a courage 
bordering on frenzy let myself down over the edge 
of the shelf, and then I had no other alternative 
but to keep on. Never mind how I reached the ex- 
tremity of that dangling line, how at last I let go the 
rope, and spun down — down — down, till I grew dizzy 
and knew no more. When I recovered my senses I 
was in a canoe with a couple of friendly Indians, who 
had seen me drop into the water, and picked me up 
more dead than alive. We found Michel's mangled 
body below the cliff, and that ends the story of my 
escape from the scourge of Acadie. 

I have always cherished a bitterness for the Eng- 
lish ; but at the same time I have little love for the 
French such as we have at Quebec. We poor Aca- 
diens are like so many kernels of corn between two 
millstones, — bound to be crushed whichever way they 
turn. But, see ! the day is breaking. The mist is 
lifting, and it will soon be light. Where is the young 
man who went away with my canoe } It is past the 
time for him to be back." 


CHAPTER XIV. 


HOW ROB FOUND THE WOODRANGER. 

Rob Rogers paddled silently away from his com- 
panions, peering cautiously into the mist enveloping 
him as he sped on his way down the river. Although 
a stranger in these regions, he had the intuitive 
faculty of one versed in woodcraft to pursue his 
difficult, if not perilous, errand without hesitation. 
Though the mist hung so densely about him that 
he could not see the end of his canoe, he was well 
aware when the mouth of the stream was reached, 
and he sent his light craft down the bay without 
misgivings. 

He had not gone far on his new course, however, 
before he checked his swift passage, and, holding the 
canoe up against the tide, listened intently for any 
sound which might reach his ear. While he had said 
nothing of this to the others, he had hoped to find 
the Woodranger, whom he judged must be along 
soon, if not already in that part of the bay. The 
only sound which came to him was the ceaseless lap 
of the tide. 


HOW ROB FOUND THE WOODRANGER. 1 37 

So Rob resumed his paddling, being careful that 
each stroke should be made noiselessly. It was five 
minutes before he again stopped, and listened once 
more for some sound to break the monotonous mur- 
mur of the dark waters. He had not waited long 
before he fancied he caught the faint dip of a 
paddle in the darkness ahead. If he had any doubts 
of this, he soon heard a voice in the same direction, 
speaking in the patois of the French to a com- 
panion. The answer quickly came in the guttural 
tone of a Micmac. 

Knowing now he was on the right course, he fol- 
lowed along in the wake of the unknown canoe, guided 
by an occasional splash from a careless oarsman, 
but more particularly by the voices of the boatmen. 
He had learned enough to know that there were five 
or six in the canoe, and that they were heading up 
the bay. Presently the sound of the advancing party 
died away, as if they had moved out of his hearing, 
and Rob, having nothing further to learn, turned 
the prow of his canoe back down the bay toward the 


Pe 



swung half-way around in his 


circle, when, without any warning, an indistinct form 
shot across his pathway. One with less command 
over his emotions must have given an involun- 
tary expression of surprise, if not of alarm, at this 
phantom-like object suddenly coming into his pres- 


138 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

ence. But Rob simply looked closer, and as he did 
so he uttered a single word, in a guarded tone : 

‘‘ WoodraiigerT' 

If the forester had crossed his path without having 
given him any warning of his approach, Rob had as 
successfully placed himself in the pathway of his 
friend. The low greeting of the Woodranger told 
that he appreciated this fact : 

‘‘ Well done, lad,” for, though enveloped in the mist, 
each had not failed to distinguish his friend at once. 
The Woodranger had been aided in his discovery by 
the sound of Rob’s voice. ‘‘Were the dusky heathens 
as discreet as you, I should have been now in a lively 
amazement. You are alone. How floats the stick ? ” 

The twain had allowed their canoes to swing 
around so that they rode side by side, and, keeping 
in this position, they exchanged their views of the 
situation in the following dialogue : 

“ I left the others a quarter of a mile up the river 
just back of here, while I took a little trip to see if I 
could get on the track of the enemy.” 

“ Which gives you credit for proper discretion, lad. 
Hast got an inkling o’ ’em ? ” 

“They are just ahead of us.” 

“ I ’low that, seeing the onseeming waste o’ con- 
sideration they give themselves. Durst know from 
whence the keerless creatur’s come ? ” 

“ They slipped out of the Petite just ahead of us.” 


//OW ROB FOUND THE WOODRANGER, 1 39 

I didst opine as. much, I swan, I did. I was too 
far down in the heel to ketch sight o’ the varmints. 
But my being so backward about starting — and the 
blameful creatur’s did pester me — I say, this very 
lagg3.rdness o’ mine was the means o’ bringing a 
leetle intelligence with me, which might otherwise 
have been lost, if you can lose that which you ne’er 
have. A boat-load o’ the painted and plumed 
heathens left Grand Pre just behind me.” 

Started for Main-a-Dieu } ” 

“ I have good reason for believing Basil Le Noir 
is with ’em, and that is the best kind o’ carcumstan- 
tial evidence that they have. Hast any plan to car- 
cumvent the heathen ? ” 

If I had one, your news has changed it. Seeing 
we cannot get in ahead of all the red imps and their 
white allies, perhaps we had better let the Le Noir 
party pass us, and then fall in behind.” 

Which sounds like an ol’ man’s ’vice, and not 
that o’ a youngster fired with the hot blood o’ youth. 
It be to your credit, Rob, but there be personal 
p’ints in this matter, which are well to consider. In 
the fust place, it is ne’er safe to count on an inemy in 
front, especially when your time is limited. With 
these two boats in our lead it might puzzle us to 
make the Subenacadie as soon as we would like. 
We must pass ol’ Fort Alliance afore the alarm gets 
there o’ our flight. Then, too, I have reasons for 


140 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

believing that other boats will follow the dark-skinned 
maker o’ war-weepons, and then we should be caught 
atween ’em like a wedge in a log o’ wood.” 

Your plan.^^” asked Rob, waiting patiently, and 
with apparent indifference, though this showed no 
lack of faith in his companion. 

The party behind us is not likely to get along 
for a goodish spell, seeing I have been playing no 
childish game in coming up here. If you should 
return to the Petite for the others as soon as may be, 
I jedge we can run into the Subenacadie ahead o’ 
Le Noir’s Judas gang.” 

‘‘ How about the canoe in front ? ” asked Rob. 

‘‘ Leave that to me, lad, leave that to me. I’ve a 
leetle amazement to offer ’em, and if they ’cept, — 
mind you, I say if they ’cept, and an Indian is like a 
coquettish woman, — we shall skip into the Suben- 
acadie as brisk as a squirrel. But see ! the mist is 
lifting. It will soon be clear, and then there will be 
no kiver for us. Mind you how the wind comes up 
the strait ? That tells why we hear the dusky 
heathens so well in front, while there is leetle likeli- 
hood o’ they hearing us, unless we go bawling round 
like two loons, which in common sense we are not 
going to do. The bay is growing rougher every 
minnit. A storm is rising. So, all in all, we can 
ne’er get up to Cobequid any too soon.” 

Without further words, the Woodranger began to 


HOW ROB FOUND THE WOODRANGER. 141 

paddle away into the gloom, his form soon disappear- 
ing in the mist. Rob headed his canoe toward the 
Petite and fifteen minutes later reached the rendez- 
vous of his friends, just as they were about to start 
in search of him. The news that the Woodranger 
had come to their assistance was hailed with joy, and 
no time was lost in getting ready to start. 

The light canoe was again secured astern, and, as 
they moved silently down the stream, Rob explained 
to his companions the plan of the forester, by which 
it was hoped the passage up the bay could be made 
successfully. Rob took his accustomed place in the 
bow, while Jean stationed himself at the stern, and 
Alex, who counted himself a man in the work of 
propelling the canoe, took his position near the 
middle. 

Mr. Briant complained because he was not able to 
lend his assistance, but, as it was already becoming 
light, he and Mrs. Briant, with the bright eyes of Mab 
to assist, established a lookout fore and aft. In this 
way they did more good then they anticipated in the 
stern chase which was to follow. 

As they sped on, the mist cleared away faster and 
faster, so the view was broadening each moment, 
making the watchers keenly alive to their importance. 
When this gradual breaking away of the gray gloom 
of early morning had progressed to a certain extent, 
a sudden transformation took place. It seemed as if 


142 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the curtain of darkness had been swiftly raised by an 
invisible hand, and a flood of light thrown over the 
scene with a brightness that for a moment dazzled 
the beholders. 

On their left the waters of Minas Basin lay throb- 
bing in the new light, moaning like a child sobbing 
in its sleep. On the right the vast forest of that 
region stretched farther than the eye could span, 
crowned in the far distance by the circular crest of 
Mount Ardois. 

But the little party had slight interest in these 
surroundings, but anxiously looked for a sight of 
their enemies. In this respect two discoveries were 
made simultaneously, both of which boded them ill. 
Mrs. Briant, from her position in the bow, was the 
first to announce : 

I can see a canoe ahead, containing five or six 
Indians. Yes ; and in front of that, if I am not mis- 
taken, is another canoe, with one person in it. He 
seems to be pursued by the other party.'' 

‘‘The Woodranger," said Rob. “He has suc- 
ceeded in passing the reds; he will lead them a lively 
race, and keep their attention from us." 

“There is another canoe behind us!" declared 
Briant, “ and I can count six in it. They are this 
side of the Petite. Ha 1 they have discovered us." 

“And look, father!" cried Mab, “there comes 
another canoe behind the first. It is filled with men." 


HOW ROB FOUND THE WOODRANGER. 143 

‘‘ You are right, my child,’' said the Acadian ran- 
ger, with a troubled look upon his countenance. ‘‘ It 
looks as if that, too, was filled with Indians. The 
prospect looks dark for us.” 

‘‘ We are between two fires ! ” said Jean Vallie, as 
he bent to his work with redoubled vigour. ‘‘ How 
we shall come out is past my foretelling ; but at any 
rate, we will do our best.” 

The Indians in the canoe ahead are preparing to 
fire on the Woodranger,” said Mrs. Briant, excitedly. 
“ They are within short range, too. There goes their 
first volley,” and the mingle of reports of three or 
four guns were heard by the fugitives. 


CHAPTER XV. 


A STORMY FLIGHT. 

Mrs. Briant watched intently the scene ahead, 
until the smoke of the firearms in the hands of the 
enemies had cleared away, when she said, joyously : 

‘‘The man does not seem to be hurt, but I do 
believe the Indians are gaining on him.” 

“That may be a trick of the Woodranger,” said 
Rob. “No Micmac, Til warrant, has a gun that can 
throw a piece of lead as far as old Danger, and the 
Woodranger knows when to use it better than any 
other man.” 

“ But there are five or six in the other canoe, and 
every man seems to have a paddle.” 

“ There is the weight of a body for every pair of 
arms,” replied Rob. “ The arms of the Woodranger 
have sinews as tough as seasoned oak. The Wood- 
ranger will take care of himself against any number 
of red or French enemies. How is it with those 
behind us ” 

“ I believe they are gaining on us,” replied Briant, 
who, though he had not missed a word of the forego- 
144 


A STORMY FLIGHT. 


145 


ing conversation, had been anxiously watching their 
pursuers. Hark ! there is their reply to the shots of 
the foremost canoe.’' 

Ere the Acadian ranger had finished his speech, 
the war-cry of the Micmacs rang out over the waters 
of Minas, prolonged, and swelling in volume, until it 
seemed to issue from half a hundred iron throats. 
And as the wild notes rose and fell the distant cliffs 
caught them up, sending them along the entire line of 
rocky breastworks, while the pine forest stretching 
away to the south flung back an answering appeal, 
which was repeated over and over, with losing force, 
until the whole died away in the extreme distance. 

These cries were nothing new to Wallace Briant or 
his faithful friend, Jean Vallie, and it had no effect 
on them. If it was the first time Robert Rogers had 
listened to the war-whoop of the Micmac, he was quite 
familiar with the slogan of their cousins, the St. 
Francis Indians, and the only consequence that he 
showed was to ply his paddle with renewed power. 
If Alex was for a moment startled by the terrible cry, 
he quickly recovered, and kept at his task with a 
resolute will. Mrs. Briant was a brave woman, and 
she did not allow her gaze to leave the scene ahead, 
while she folded closely to her the quivering form of 
little Mab, who alone was frightened by the fierce yell. 

The war-cry of the enemies pursuing was answered 
by the canoe in front, though with less vigour, for 


146 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

they were at that moment very much occupied in car- 
ing for their single foeman in front. 

Jean Vallie showed his utter contempt or defiance 
for the outcries of their enemies by beginning to sing, 
in time with the strokes of his paddle, the stirring 
song once sung by a certain voyageur in the wilds of 
the Ottawa. This daring adventurer, after being pur- 
sued by a war-party of Indians, finally sought safety 
in the cavern of a rocky island in the midst of one of 
the northern lakes. Hemmed in there by his ene- 
mies, he met death from starvation and sleeplessness 
rather than come forth to meet his fate at their 
hands. Peeling off the white bark of a birch-tree, he 
traced on it with a sharp-pointed stick in the juice of 
some berries his La Complainte de Cadieux,” a death 
song of matchless pathos and beauty. This was 
found some time after his death, and became one of 
the most popular songs of New France. 

Both Rob and Alex quickly caught the inspiration 
of the Basque's defiant song, and the three sent the 
canoe skimming over the waters at a more rapid rate. 

But Briant soon realised that, as good work as his 
friends with the paddles were doing, the odds were 
too much against them to enable them to hold their 
own with the pursuing party. A look of stern deter- 
mination came over his sunburned countenance; he 
reached down, and lifted from the bottom of the 
canoe the gun belonging to Robert Rogers. 


A STORMY FLIGHT. 


147 


‘‘ Mine is somewhere in the woods around Annap- 
olis/’ he said. But if I cannot hold a paddle, I 
can show you that my finger is still able to pull the 
trigger, and that my eye has not lost its keenness, 
when an enemy is the target.” 

“ The Micmacs are gaining on the Woodranger,” 
declared Mrs. Briant, a tremor apparent in her voice. 
‘‘They mean to fire at him again.” 

The next moment the report of a single firearm 
rang out with uncommon clearness, followed almost 
instantly by a piercing yell. 

“ Old Danger ! ” exclaimed Rob, “ and I’ll warrant 
there is one red the less.” 

As he spoke, the victim of the forester’s shot, after 
reeling for a moment, let the paddle slip away from 
his nerveless hold, and dropped into the bottom of 
the canoe. A yell of rage came from his companions 
at his fate, and three of the survivors quickly seized 
their firearms, to send another volley after the auda- 
cious forester. But, as Rob Rogers had said, their 
weapons were not equal to the long range of the 
Woodranger’s trusty “ Danger,” and their shots were 
fired in vain. As but one was left to propel the 
canoe, this instantly slackened its speed. Ignoring 
now the fugitives following in their track, the four 
were intent on the capture or death of their single 
foeman ahead. With a smile on his bronzed features, 
the Woodranger, after having hastily recharged his 


148 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

faithful weapon, laid it at his feet, and was again send- 
ing his canoe over the water like a bird upon wing. 

Meanwhile, the leading canoe in the pursuit of the 
Briant party had continued to lessen the distance be- 
tween them and the fugitives. The Acadian ranger 
noted the loss of each foot with cool precision, while 
he held in his hands Rob’s gun. Finally, when he 
saw two of their enemies exchange their paddles for 
their guns, he said : 

‘‘They mean to try a couple of shots. But it will 
be a waste of so much powder and speed, for their 
companions will miss their efforts. He must be 
indeed an unerring marksman who can send a bullet 
home from a canoe tossed in such a wild tide as 
this.” 

Two ringing reports, two dark puffs of smoke, re- 
plied to Briant’s words, but, as he had predicted, the 
bullets flew wide of their mark, and the discomfited 
marksmen resumed their paddles. Once more the 
canoe of the Micmacs, with its leeboard down, began 
to overtake the fugitives. Noting carefully this 
steady loss of space, Briant began to calculate how 
long it would take them to come within fair gun- 
range. As he continued his watch he raised the 
gun three or four times, to lower it each time with- 
out touching the trigger. 

“ Steer away from the shore,” he said, finally. “ If 
the wind continues to gain in ugliness you will soon 


A STORMY FLIGHT. 


149 


have all you can do to manage the canoe, let alone 
dodging the enemy.’’ 

Then the Acadian ranger laid aside Rob’s gun 
and took up the heavy, clumsy weapon belonging to 
Jean Vallie. Raising the hammer of this ancient 
weapon, he held it ready for instant use when the 
proper moment came. He had not long to wait, for 
as soon as the pursuers came within fair gunshot he 
saw three of them laying down their paddles, with the 
evident purpose of trying again their skill in firing at 
the fugitives. But they had not calculated on the 
result. Before they had laid hands on their weapons, 
the big gun of Jean’s belched forth its cannon-like 
report, recoiling against its holder’s shoulder with a 
force which sent him backward at the feet of Alex. 

So well had Briant taken aim that the great charge 
tore a big rent in the side of the birchen craft close 
down to the water’s edge. Instead of trying to shoot 
the party of whites, they were now forced to look to 
their own safety. 

‘‘That puts them out of the race,” declared Briant, 
with a ring of triumph in his voice, as he raised him- 
self up into his former position, forgetting his pain 
in the excitement of the situation. “ I couldn’t have 
done that with your gun, Rob,” he said, and then, 
leaving the discomfited Micmacs to be picked up by 
those in the canoe behind them, he turned his atten- 
tion ahead. 


150 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

They had gained considerably on the canoe in 
front, while the Woodranger was still leading them 
at a tantalising distance. 

If I could put a hole in that with this old blun- 
derbuss, as I did in the other,” he thought, I 
wouldn’t mind the loss of powder. But the distance 
is too great, and the sea grows uglier fast. Aren’t 
you getting tired, Alex } ” 

‘‘No, father; I can hold out until we reach the 
Subenacadie.” 

“ Spare yourself all you can, my son. It is not 
going to be any longer a matter of speed, but a fight 
with the wind and tide. I wish we had held back 
and not attempted the passage until after the storm. 
Ha! there is another shot from the Woodranger. 
Another red has bitten the dust, or rather foam. I 
would give a year of my life if I could handle a gun 
like him.” 

Only three were left in the Micmac canoe ahead, 
and these, with bitter cries, were having all they 
could do to keep their light skiff right side up, so for 
the time their hated foe was forgotten. 

By this time the wind and tide were giving the 
three at the paddles all they could do, for Minas 
Basin under the influence of the elements becomes a 
dangerous course for light crafts, or even large 
vessels. The dark clouds of early morning were 
beginning to keep their threat of rain, and the roll 


A STORMY FLIGHT 


ISI 

of distant thunder was heard sullenly above the roar 
of the tide. Mrs. Briant, who had shown remarkable 
fortitude through the trying scenes just passed, now 
looked pale and hopeless, while she clasped closer 
than ever to her breast the frightened Mab. Rob, 
Jean, and Alex were all doing their utmost to keep 
the frail boat afloat among the seething waters. 

Briant alone of the little party was able to note 
their surroundings, and the furious rapidity with 
which the storm was coming on. He saw that the 
Woodranger had made away from the shore consider- 
ably, while the Micmacs were still hugging close in 
toward the rocky beach, over which the waves broke 
and tossed with a fury that was appalling. 

When, a little later, a rugged point of land was 
discovered ahead, thrusting a sharp nose out into the 
stormy waters, the reason for the change made by 
the Woodranger in his course was apparent. They 
were approaching Tenny Cape. The canoe of the 
Woodranger was being tossed like a cockle-shell on 
the wild tide, while that of the three Micmacs was 
having an even harder struggle with the warring ele- 
ments, on account of having kept in closer to the 
land. 

This was seen by Briant only, as his companions 
were all occupied with other matters. The three at 
the paddles were called upon to do all in their power 
to keep the boat up against wind and wave, while 


152 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Mrs. Briant and Mab were locked in each other’s 
arms, awed into silence by the sublimity of the scene 
around them. The Acadian ranger, having seen 
that the enemy behind them had dropped out of 
sight, was now watching closely the action of those 
in front. 

He saw that these were steering farther out from 
the point of land. In the midst of their struggles a 
report from the Woodranger rang faintly above the 
storm, and one of the savages sprang up, to fall over 
upon one of his companions, with the result that the 
canoe was quickly capsized, and the occupants found 
themselves battling with the waves. 

‘‘ Good for the Woodranger ! ” cried Briant, joy- 
ously. The coast is now clear for us, boys ; but, 
ha ! what is this } The boat has sprung a leak ! ” 

The truth of this startling statement was quickly 
apparent, and Briant, forgetful of his wounds, began 
to bail out the water, Mrs. Briant assisting him. 
Their efforts for a time proved successful, but the 
leak grew worse, in spite of all they could do, so that 
Briant finally said : 

‘‘You had better put in at Noel Inlet, just above 
here. It will be folly for us to try and keep on, even 
if the boat was in better shape. I have a friend liv- 
ing near the bay, where I can stop with Mrs. Briant 
and Mab. Perhaps the rest of you can mend the 
boat by the time the storm wears out, when, if you 


A STORMY FLIGHT, 


153 


think best, we can start again. The Woodranger 
has worsted the Micmacs, so I do not believe we 
have anything to fear from them. Certainly . not 
until those behind come up. This they cannot do 
in the teeth of this storm.” 

Rob and Jean agreed to this proposition gladly, 
and the boat was steered for the bay, while the bail- 
ing was continued. 


CHAPTER XVI. 


SEEKING SHELTER. 

Noel Inlet, or bay as it is now called, is a broad 
arm of Minas thrust deep into the shore, and as the 
fugitives reached its more sheltered waters the boat 
escaped to a great extent the fury of the storm, and 
for the first time since they had begun to approach 
Tenny Point the little party of fugitives drew a 
breath of relief. Alex, assisted by such help as his 
father could give, was kept as busy as ever bailing 
out the water from the leaking boat, but the realisa- 
tion that safety was so near at hand gave him 
strength. Mrs. Briant looked hopefully around, 
while Mab ceased her sobbing, and showed the brave 
spirit she really possessed. Then Mrs. Briant took 
a turn at dipping out the water, in order that her 
husband might rest. Presently he said : 

‘‘The Woodranger is hovering near the mouth of 
the creek ; hadn’t we better signal him ? ” 

“I think he understands our intentions,” replied 
Rob. “He will follow us if he thinks best ; if not, 
he will remain behind to keep an eye out for pursuit.” 

154 


SEEKING SHELTER, 


ISS 


After watching the forester, whose form was grow- 
ing smaller each moment, the Acadian ranger said : 

‘‘ I think you are right. Put in toward the landing 
on our left, Jean. I want to find Louis Beauchamp.’' 

A few minutes later the boat scraped on the bot- 
tom, and then rested firm and fast at the water’s 
edge. The rain was now falling in a shower, but the 
place was somewhat protected from the wind, and 
the little party felt like returning thanks for this 
temporary haven. 

You have done well, boys,” declared Briant, ‘‘and 
I know you are as glad as the rest of us to get here. 
You know Louis Beauchamp, Jean.?” 

“For a true-hearted, whole-souled man. You will 
be safe with him for a few days.” 

“ Our stay with him must be short. But I thought 
Mary and Mab could find shelter until the storm 
passes over. In the meantime, perhaps you and 
Rob can repair the boat. I am sorry I cannot help 
you.” 

“ You have got the worst of it so far,” replied 
Jean. “But there is no need of your staying here 
in this pelting rain and wind. It is but a short dis- 
tance to the home of Louis, and we will get you 
there all right. We shall lose nothing by waiting 
until after the storm has spent its fury. If I mis- 
take not, the Micmacs have suffered as much by it 
as we.” 


156 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

‘‘ I am going to agree with you, Jean, in all you 
say. I can’t do any better. I think with your aid and 
Alex’s I can reach Louis’s home. I wish you, Rob, 
would take Jean’s canoe and go after the Wood- 
ranger. Tell him I want to see him at the house of 
Louis Beauchamp both on business and pleasure. 
The business is important.” 

I will gladly find the Woodranger,” replied Rob, 
‘‘ but I do not believe he will go to the house. There 
is need that he and I should get on toward Main-i- 
Dieu as soon as possible.” 

I know it, and I regret that I am hindering you. 
But even if you were to leave me here, there is a 
matter I must speak of to you both. It won’t take 
you long to fetch him. I will wait here in the boat 
until you and he come.” 

<< Very well ; but it will not be necessary to keep 
Mrs. Briant and Mab waiting here in this rain. Let 
them go on to the home of your friend. Alex can 
go with them. I will return with the Woodranger in 
a short time.” 

‘‘You are right, Rob; Mary and Mab must go 
on to the house. Fetch the Woodranger as soon as 
you can, for I feel that every moment’s delay means 
much. The danger which threatens New England, 
as well as Acadia, is too grave to admit of any one 
shirking his duty. Now that I am so helpless, I 
must depend on others to do what I had intended 


SEEKING SHELTER. 


157 


to perform. Ay, the French shall yet rue the day 
they loaned me that bit of lead. It shall be paid 
back. You have heard what our friend has said, 
Mary, have you any fear about going on to Louis 
Beauchamp’s without Jean and me.^” 

“ No, Wallace ; but you must promise to be care- 
ful of yourself. I am so — ” 

‘‘Tut — tut, good wife! you know I am used to 
this sort of thing. Come, Alex, help your mother 
and Mab on their way.” 

By this time Rob had untied Jean’s canoe from 
the stern of the boat, and as Mrs. Briant, Alex, and 
Mab started away from the place, he paddled swiftly 
down the bay in quest of the Woodranger. As he 
had expected, he found the latter lying off the shore 
just above the mouth of the Noel estuary, out of 
sight of the landing-place of the boat, on account 
of the fringe of forest that skirted the shore for 
many miles. When Rob advised his companion of 
Briant’s wishes, the forester shook his head, saying : 

“ I ne’er dissemble, lad ; I have no eagerness to 
meet the man. And I cannot previcate enough to 
say that I like this delay. Our duty lies away 
to Main-a-Dieu. And then New England must 
be awakened to her peril. Mind you, I say this 
without being unmindful of the interests of Major 
Vaughan. There be much for us to do, lad, and 
delays are but cross-trails o’ evil.” 


158 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

But when Rob had described the leak in the 
boat, and the necessity of its repair, the Woodranger 
quickly overcame the doubts he had shown. 

Mebbe I was not discreet, lad, seeing I set the 
stick afore I had read the sign. The storm be an 
ugly one, ne'er fitting for a woman and leetle girl to 
be its playthings. So we will tarry here till it has 
spent its fury like a painter that scents human 
blood." 

‘‘You will go back with me to see and talk with 
Briant ? He seems very anxious to see you. I had 
him send the woman and girl ahead to this Beau- 
champ's home." 

“You did that, lad, did you? And they minded 
sich discretion ? " 

“Yes, Woodranger. We are losing valuable time, 
to say nothing of keeping him exposed to the storm. 
He is waiting at the boat, alone with his Basque 
friend, Jean Vallie." 

“ I mind your wishes, lad, I do. But now's me, 
an ol' man's fancy be, after all, safer counsel than the 
logic o' a young heart. And she be gone ? Mebbe 
I’ll run in with you, and if the indiscretion work 
harm 'twill be an ol' man's fault, and he must 
suffer." 

They found Briant awaiting them with no disguise 
over his anxiety to meet them. 

“You have been very kind — " 


SEEKING SHELTER. 


159 


The Woodranger checked the speech with a wave 
of his hand, saying : 

If it be for no more than that weVe come up 
here,- 1 shall count it a blameful loss o' time, seeing 
two score o' human lives are calling us to Main-a- 
Dieu." 

Forgive me, Woodranger. I will come to my 
purpose at once. You say forty lives are in peril 
at Main-a-Dieu. I have a more fearful statement to 
make than that. I think you have learned something 
of what I mean from the talk of the Dark Abbe, 
which you overheard in Basil le Noir's smithy." 

As the forester made no reply to this, simply bow- 
ing his head, as if in acquiescence, he continued : 

‘‘The French government, through their tools at 
home and in Quebec, are planning to carry out a 
scheme which will bring desolation and suffering 
to all New England. Besides arming their forces at 
home, for the purpose of driving every Englishman 
from New England and New Scotland, a powerful 
fleet of vessels, bearing an army of soldiers, is now 
on the way here to assist in this wholesale annihila- 
tion of a people." 

“You Tamed this in Quebec.?" asked the Wood- 
ranger, whose attention was now fixed upon the other. 

“ I did. I went in disguise into one of Intendant 
Bigot's secret conferences, and there learned the 
whole infamous plot." 


l6o THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

‘‘Which showed the cunning o' a master hand. 
I opine the news have not been spread." 

“ No — no. It was of that I wished to speak to 
you and the boy with you. He is a brave youth, and 
if you two are specimens of New England’s defenders, 
the French will have a bigger undertaking on hand 
than they calculate. Pardon me for saying this. I 
will come to what I wished to say. Before I had 
received this ugly wound I was intending to go to 
Port Glasgow, which is a few miles this side of 
Chedabucto Bay and Cape Canseau, hoping to meet 
one of the fishing-vessels from the Banks on their 
return to New England, as some of them stop there. 
In that way I hoped to get the news to Boston. I 
have friends in that vicinity, whom I wished to warn. 
It is necessary, also, that every settlement of English 
in New Scotland should be warned. Oh, that I 
should be so helpless in the midst of all this trouble ! 
I am even helpless to protect my own." 

“Were there no crosses to bear, there would be 
no hearts to feel, man, no hearts to feel," said the 
Woodranger, impressively. “ I jedge you desire us 
to bear this news to Port Glasgow } " 

“Yes," he replied, eagerly. “To do that, and see 
a friend of mine who dwells on the shore of Le 
Bras d’Or, in the heart of Isle Royal. I do not 
wish you to underrate the undertaking. You must 
pass through the country of the Dark Abba's most 


SEEKING SHEL TER. 1 6 1 

powerful allies. Your most direct way will be up 
Minas Basin to Cobequid Bay, and across the Su- 
benacadie region. This river is the great highway of 
the Micmacs in coming from Chebucto to the region 
of the Gaspereau. I need not tell you all this, as 
you are a man acquainted with the secrets of the 
woods, but the most learned are those who are the 
most willing to listen to another’s counsel.” 

‘‘ It be true, sir, it be true. I am not advarse to 
minding another’s counsel. And my stick floats 
beside yours.” 

‘‘That means you will undertake this stupendous 
journey.?” asked Briant, earnestly. 

“ I do not previcate the truth, sir. Rob and I are 
bound to perambulate back to our own camp-ground 
as ’arly as may be. I can see it will be well for us 
to return on one of the flshing-boats, as it will be 
our quickest way to get where we seem needed.” 

“ I don’t wish to be any hindrance in your way,” 
said Briant, “and if you think better you can go 
ahead, as soon as the storm abates. No boat can 
live in such a gale in Cobequid. While the boys 
mend the boat, come up to the house with me, and 
eat and rest for a time. You must have food, 
and after your long and — ” 

“ In all consistency you can ne’er know what you 
are saying, sir. It may be food we do need, but that 
we can pick up as we go on. As to the other, I 


i 62 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


ne'er can tell. There'll be plenty o' rest for us all, 
by and by, but somebody has got to be astir while 
the war-cry o' the Micmac and the Abnaki wakes 
the homes o' New England. Nay, sir, go to thy 
shelter as soon as may be ; let the lads mend the 
boat ; and while this is being done I will see that no 
red scout passes toward Main-a-Dieu by this water." 

The others quickly saw the wisdom of the Wood- 
ranger's suggestion, and without further delay Rob 
and Jean assisted the Acadian ranger from the boat. 
In doing this they were obliged to accept the assist- 
ance of the forester, for Briant found it, at first, 
impossible to help himself. 

‘‘ I shall be better when I have stirred a bit," he 
said, hopefully. Upon reaching the land, he did 
manage to walk between Rob and Jean, and when 
the Woodranger had seen them fairly started he 
headed his canoe toward the point of pines jutting 
out into the mouth of the estuary, and he was not 
seen again that forenoon. 


CHAPTER XVII. 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER. 

The storm subsided as rapidly as it had arisen, so 
that by the noon hour there were signs of clearing 
weather. Rob and Jean had worked industriously 
upon the boat, but with poor results. It was an old 
affair, and the materials they had were inadequate to 
properly repair it. 

^‘It cannot be made safe,'’ declared Jean. ‘^I wish 
we had another canoe like mine." 

This thought had been in Rob’s mind half the 
forenoon, and he had also remembered that the 
Woodranger had a canoe with him which would 
be ample provision for their purpose. But out of 
respect to the feelings of his friend, he had said 
nothing of this to the Basque, though he had con- 
cluded to broach the matter to the forester as soon 
as he should reappear. He was not likely to have 
to wait much longer for this opportunity, for even 
as Jean spoke, a canoe, containing a single occupant, 
was coming swiftly up the bay. A minute later both 
recognised the approaching person as him whom they 
most desired to see. 


163 


164 the young gunbearer. 

‘‘ What news, Woodranger ? '' asked Rob, as the 
forester reached them. 

^‘No news are sometimes the best o* news, lad,*’ 
as he stepped from his light craft. ‘‘ The reds nor 
painted whites have ne’er put in a feather. How 
soon they may do it, now the storm has stopped 
kicking the bay like an ol’ inemy, it would not be 
discreet for me to say. I opine they’ll move soon. 
I jedge the boat is not ready } ” 

‘‘The boat is not seaworthy, Woodranger,” replied 
Rob. “ At least, we cannot make it so with what we 
have to work with.” 

“ I s’pected as much, I swan I did, lad. Are all 
to go — I mean the woman and leetle gal ? ” 

“ It will not do for them to remain here. What 
we need is another canoe, Woodranger.” 

“ I trust you’ll think it no great claim o’ mine when 
I say that I see it, lad. Mebbe it’ll be a great indis- 
cretion, — mind you, I say it may, — but here is my 
canoe, stout and well-seasoned. The bay be getting 
good-natured, and there be personal p’ints why we 
should be moving soon. Mebbe it could be arranged 
to carry all on both,” he added, in a low tone, and 
apparently addressing himself more than his com- 
panions. Rob wisely remained silent, but Jean was 
prompted to say : 

“With your canoe, monsieur, we can make the 
Subenacadie in fine shape. You and I, Rob, can 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER, 165 

take Monsieur Briant in our canoe and go ahead, 
while the others can follow us. You see I am better 
acquainted with the route,’' seeing that this plan 
instantly brought a look of displeasure upon the sun- 
bronzed countenance of the woodsman, who began to 
look anxiously down the bay. 

I must go,” he exclaimed, bluntly. ‘‘ No good 
sentinel leaves his post without committing a blame- 
ful indiscretion. I hope you’ll forgive me, Rob. 
’Tain’t often the ol’ man shirks his duty, but I 
thought a moment off wouldn’t be a grievous wrong ; 
but I see my conceit made my jedgment weak. For- 
get an ol’ man’s weakness, and I’ll ne’er be a deserter 
ag’in.” 

With these words, to the surprise of Jean Vallie 
and the confusion of Rob Rogers, the Woodranger 
stepped into his canoe, and sped off down the bay. 
Understanding better the real motive for this singular 
action on the part of his friend, Rob was the first to 
recover his presence of mind. Quickly pushing 
Jean’s canoe away from the bank, without a word to 
the Basque, he caught up the paddle, and sent the 
light craft after the Woodranger. Rob made such a 
vigorous pursuit that, before the forester had covered 
half of the distance to the Basin, he came alongside 
of the other. With a look of pain rather than sur- 
prise on his features, the Woodranger said : 

Forgive me, lad ; it was a blameful indiscretion 


1 66 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

o' mine. Mebbe I let my consarn over the delay in 
getting ahead blind me to my duty. I have heerd o' 
sich things, and it may be an ol' man — " 

'^It was not that, Woodranger," interrupted Rob. 
‘<No Injun could have passed in this short time. 
But every moment is precious to us now. But what 
I wanted to say, Woodranger, was in regard to the 
boat. It is not fit to go on with. Even if it held 
together, in the small streams which we must follow 
the canoes would be much better. Is not that so, 
Woodranger ? " 

Ay, lad ; you are ol' in woodcraft beyond your 
years. I had trailed that thought, lad, I had, when 
that blamed ijit fired his shot into the bresh hap- 
hazard like. Mebbe I fluttered too quick, lad, but, 
alack! now's me, what be I saying.? You have 
some plan, lad .? " 

‘‘ I have come to get yours, Woodranger. We've 
no time to delay over simple differences. There are 
many lives at stake, Woodranger." 

‘‘Ay, many lives, lad, and that what is dearer yet, 
though you may not know. Alack I hear me running 
on like a foolish brook babbling o' what in all con- 
sistency I cannot know. But it am true, lad, that an 
ol' man's head grows light, while his feet grow heavy. 
Now that you have brought me to my shallow wits, I 
will untie the knots I had in my string. In the first 
place, it is not a discreet act to leave this run exposed 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER. 


167 


to the inemy, to slip past at their fancy. While I 
remain here, promising not to desart my post ag’in, 
how long will it take you to fetch the wounded 
Scotchman and his boy down here in your canoe } 
Not over half an hour, Woodranger.'' 

‘‘ I opined as much. If you’ll do it, lad, I will 
then take them in my canoe, and with the boy to 
help me somewhat, if I need, — and I noticed he was 
a lusty chap, — I will lead the way up to the Subena- 
cadie, and if the garrison be passed enter the Stewi- 
acke. You can follow with the others.” 

“The very best plan we can carry out. Wood- 
ranger, and I will get Briant and Alex here as quick 
as possible.” 

“ I know it, lad. But there be one p’int more to 
settle — a personal p’int. You’ll be discreet in not 
fetching your canoe too near mine.^ Durst under- 
stand, lad, I’ll be on hand to succour you in case o’ 
need, but not for you to come indiscreetly near. 
You understand my sign, lad.^” 

“ I do, Woodranger, and I will remember your 
wishes. You can trust me.” 

“ I know it, lad.” 

The next moment Rob was returning up the 
estuary to where Jean Vallie was impatiently await- 
ing him, and, upon reaching the Basque, the two 
lost no time in hastening to the home of Louis 
Beauchamp, where they found the fugitives anx- 


1 68 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

iously looking for them. The plan was quickly 
accepted by them, and inside of thirty minutes from 
the time he had left him Rob was back beside 
the Woodranger, accompanied by Briant and Alex. 
It required the united efforts of all to assist the 
former from one canoe into the other, and then 
he lay in the bottom of the birchen skiff quite 
helpless. 

I shall make for the Subenacadie, lad, and I 
know that you'll follow with due discretion. Remem- 
ber the whistle o’ the catbird.” 

A minute later the Woodranger was paddling 
briskly up Minas Basin toward Cobequid Bay, Alex 
lending his assistance, while his father looked back 
toward Noel Inlet, not without many misgivings over 
the fate of those he had left behind. 

You’d chide me for telling you to keep a good 
lookout for the inemy,” said the Woodranger, as the 
passage was begun over the choppy tide, for, though 
the storm had cleared away, the bay was still greatly 
disturbed. At times the canoe was tossed furiously 
on the crest of some foam-flecked wave, and it must 
have upset under the management of a less experi- 
enced hand than that of the forester. 

‘‘I will keep my eyes open,’’ replied Briant, ‘‘both 
fore and aft. I do not see any sign of them now. 
Have you reason for thinking any of them have 
passed us } ” 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER. 1 69 

‘‘The inemy from Grand Pre are behind us ; there 
may be others ahead. I’m not gifted with the wis- 
dom to tell.” 

Nothing more was said, while the little party 
moved swiftly on toward the Subenacadie, the 
Woodranger plying his paddle with an arm that 
never seemed to tire. Twice Briant had caught 
sight of a canoe in their wake, which he had been 
confident was that of their friends. Nothing had 
been seen of the French or their Indian allies. 
They had now entered Cobequid Bay, and were 
drawing near the Subenacadie River. The Wood- 
ranger, who had been paddling somewhat leisurely 
for some time, now ceased his efforts, saying to 
Alex : 

“ Rest, lad ; you have shown amazing strength for 
one of thy years. It may be an act o’ indiscretion 
to enter the river afore sundown, seeing we are then 
going to be environed by woods where some sneaking 
Micmac spy may be lurking. The sun be a good 
hand’s span above the tree-tops. Hast seen the 
other canoe, friend Briant, of late "i ” 

“ Not for half an hour, Woodranger. It might be 
well for us to drift along slowly until they can come 
up. Making the Subenacadie will be running the 
gauntlet of the reds from Chebucto. Were the reds 
arming, up your way, Woodranger 1 ” 

“ Not when Rob and I come away, but how soon 


I/O 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the tarm o' peace will break there I can ne’er tell. 
The silence will not be overlong.” 

‘‘I suppose you are anxious to get back to your 
family and friends } ” 

The bearded lips of the Woodranger parted with 
a motion of silent mirth, though his features showed 
little, if any, of the spirit of pleasure. 

“ I trust I am always with friends,” he said. “ As 
to my family, I do not think I previcate the great 
truth — mind you I say this, knowing what no one 
else can know — I have no family, unless a heart 
that can feel for all mankind can be considered a 
family.” 

“ Would there were more like you in this world ! ” 
said Briant, fervently clasping the forester’s hand in 
a warm hold, though the effort cost him great pain 
from his wound. I have been thinking over what 
you said to me this morning, — ‘ Were there no 
crosses to bear there would be no hearts to feel.’ 
Truer words were never spoken. Like myself, I am 
sure you came from old Scotland.” 

‘‘ No — no ! ” exclaimed the Woodranger, fixing 
his gaze on the shore ahead. It may be some of 
my kin did. Now that you have called my attention 
to it, I do remember something of the kind. If 
you’ll forgive an ol’ man’s weakness. I’m minded to 
ask how long you have been in this country } ” 

‘‘Mary and I came when Alex was a small boy, 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER, 171 

and before Mab was born. I need not tell you that 
there were troublesome days at home. 

‘‘After having been driven out of England and 
defeated in Ireland, James the Second turned to the 
Highlanders of Scotland for help. The deposed 
king sent trusty messengers among them, carrying 
the fiery cross from glen to glen and clan to clan, 
according to the practice of the chiefs of the race 
when they wished to arouse their followers to battle. 
These hardy allies waged a distressing warfare for 
two years, but finally William of Orange was every- 
where victorious, and the chiefs of the various clans 
gladly signed papers of fealty to the new power. 

“There was one exception to this rule, the stal- 
wart chieftain of Glencoe, Robert MacDonald. He 
hesitated until on the morning of the last day allowed 
for the signing of the paper, when he set forth to 
fulfil its conditions. Unfortunately for the proud 
chief, he reached the town to find the proper official 
away, and the officer in charge claimed that he had 
no authority to administer the oath. It was the last 
hour of grace, but in his disappointment the old 
Highlander set out across the snow-covered moun- 
tain in midwinter to find the sheriff of Inverary. 
This officer gladly administered the obligation to 
MacDonald, but it was then a week after the 
appointed time. The situation was misrepresented 
to the king, and an order was sent back for the 


1/2 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


extermination of the clan. But forgive me, I have 
wandered from my subject, and this cannot interest 
you.'' 

«Yes — yes! go on. Tell me all you can of the 
MacDonalds," said the Woodranger, his gaze still 
fixed on the shore-line. 

The officers of the king showed their vile natures 
by the method they adopted to entrap the unsuspect- 
ing Highlanders. Seeking them under the guise of 
friendship, no sooner had they feasted at their board 
than they turned upon their entertainers and slew 
them like sheep, though they made a brave defence. 
The majority of the Scots fell fighting for their 
homes and loved ones, and not until they were forced 
to do so did the survivors flee to the mountains with 
their wives and children. The inhuman victors then 
burned the houses, drove away the stock, leaving the 
wounded to die, and the fugitives in the mountain 
fastness to perish of cold and hunger. It was the 
darkest day Glencoe ever knew. Among the few 
who escaped was a youth of twenty named Robert 
MacDonald, the only son of the old chief, and his 
young wife." 

What became of them ? " asked the Woodranger, 
as the other paused in his pathetic tale. 

I cannot tell you in full, sir. Other troubles 
overtook young MacDonald. He was as headstrong 
as his father, and his sufferings seemed to develop 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGEE. 


173 


the worst part of his nature. He had two children, 
a son and a daughter. The first had something of 
his father's spirit, I judge, though I never met him. 
The daughter married a young man named Archie 
McNiel. Some trouble arose between the brothers- 
in-law, and they quarrelled. One was killed and the 
other fled the country. Alick, who was killed, left a 
young widow and a little child, both of whom lived 
with his father. I never wanted to be hard on the 
old man, and I am willing to believe him crazed by 
his grief. He took a great dislike for Mary, Alick's 
widow, and finally, in a fit of passion, drove her out 
of the house. It was a bitter, stormy night, and the 
poor outcast wandered in a bewildered way several 
miles from home, and at last fell exhausted by the 
roadside. 

‘‘ I chanced to be abroad that evening, and on my 
way stumbled over the unfortunate woman. Seeing 
that she was nearly dead, I bore her in my arms to 
my home, where she was given the best care my 
mother was capable of bestowing. Toward morn- 
ing she revived somewhat, so we had hopes of her 
life ; but it was months and months before she was 
able to be about. As soon as she could recall her 
frightful experiences, she related what had befallen 
her, and also that she had left behind her a little 
girl, asleep in her couch, at the time she had been 
driven out into the storm. She besought me to 


174 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


go to the home of the MacDonalds, whom I knew 
by report, and find out if the child was well and 
safe. She intended to go home as soon as she was 
able. 

I reached the place to find that the MacDonalds 
had gone away, and no one knew whither, though it 
was thought to America. I need not dwell upon 
what followed. Mary’s grief was very hard to bear, 
but I soon grew to care for her, and did all in my 
power to lighten her burdens. At last she and I 
were married, and when my mother died my wife 
and I, with our son Alex, came to this country. I 
hope I have not tired you with a story that was 
longer than I had intended, and filled with much 
which darkens rather than lightens the heart.” 

It is ne’er what we remember o’ pleasure, but 
what we disremember o’ sorrow, that lightens the 
heart, man, that lightens the heart,” said the Wood- 
ranger, in his impressive manner. ‘‘ But here we are 
at the mouth of the Subenacadie, unless my memory 
deceives. The sun has set, and it will be fully an 
hour before the moon comes into sight. The shades 
o’ that hour will be the best cover we shall have, and 
it behooves us to get a gc ^dish start up the stream 
during the time. If I mistake not, yon is the canoe 
o’ our friends. Rob seems to be stirring himself 
purty lively. Mebbe I see the cause,” he added, 
scanning more closely the expanse of water behind 


THE SIGNAL OF DANGER, 


175 


them. ‘‘ If my ol’ eyes do not deceive me, there 
is another canoe trailing along behind Rob.’' 

‘‘ I can see one quite plainly,” declared Alex. 

Do you suppose the Indians are so close after 
them 1 ” 

In all consistency it be the reds, or, what is 
worse, the painted French. It be leetle more’n 
was expected. Rob has a goodish pull on ’em. It 
may look like running away from friends, but as I 
count the knots we can do no better’n to run up the 
stream. They won’t overtake him short o’ the 
stream, and if we want to avoid an ambushment it’ll 
be well to push on toward the Stewiacke.” 

The Woodranger said this last more to himself 
than his companions, and as he finished speaking he 
resumed his paddling, steering the canoe into the 
current of the river, which was quite wide where it 
emptied into the bay. Soon, however, the stream 
grew narrower, and the overhanging growth on either 
bank fell over into the water. In a short time they 
were moving under the deep shadows of the forest, 
where it was too dark to distinguish an object at any 
distance. At the request of the Woodranger, Alex 
stopped paddling, watching with his father the sur- 
rounding scene, while the forester sent the canoe 
silently, but swiftly, up the stream. 

They must have proceeded three miles in this 
noiseless manner, and the river had narrowed so that 


1/6 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


its banks ran within a few yards of each other, when 
the Woodranger abruptly checked their advance, and 
bent his head forward in a listening attitude. Briant 
was about to ask him the cause of this sudden stop, 
when a clear, guttural cry familiar to him reached 
his ears. 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

A HAND - TO - HAND ENCOUNTER. 

Honk ! ” the outcry of a wild goose, was all that 
had been heard by Alex, whose hearing was strained 
to catch some more startling alarm, and he was about 
to ask his father what cause there was for concern, 
when the latter asked of the Woodranger : 

‘‘ Think they are coming this way ? 

‘‘’Yon prevication, and if there ain’t French at 
their heels Fll ne’er prate o’ what I’ve shown I do 
not know. The critters are coming down the river, 
and we must get into ambushment.” 

The keen eyes of the forester had taken in at one 
survey their situation, and before he concluded his 
speech he sent the light canoe forward into a little 
cove formed by a bend in the stream. Briant lifted 
the overhanging fringe of water-bushes so that they 
glided under the growth, which fell back into its 
former position, concealing them in their retreat. 
The spot seemed especially designed for their pur- 
pose, and they could not have been better provided 
had they searched the river its entire length. Catch- 
177 


1/8 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


ing hold of a small tree growing on the bank, the 
Woodranger held the canoe motionless against the 
land. 

At this moment Alex was somewhat frightened by 
the shrill cry of a catbird, seeming to issue from the 
bushes in front of him. Two cries uttered in rapid 
succession were given, and then, after a short pause, 
a third, more prolonged, rang out clear on the still 
night air, and then he knew it was the Woodranger, 
signalling to Rob. In a brief time, while they lis- 
tened with breathless interest for an answer, a single 
cry came from the distance below them. Then the 
Woodranger gave reply by two cries, which brought 
in response three sharp notes, and nothing more was 
heard. 

Rob understands, and will put in under kiver,’' 
whispered the Woodranger. ‘‘ He has not as good a 
corner as we, but Til resk Rob. Hark ! here come 
our friends.’^ 

He parted the dense bushes in front of them, so 
that the three were able to peer out upon the open 
course of the stream. The moon had not yet risen, 
and, though the sky was thickly set with stars, the 
shadows of the forest made it too dark to distinguish 
an ordinary object on the narrow expanse of water 
running in front of them. But the snow-white 
figures of a flock of wild geese swimming swiftly 
with the current were seen clearly against the dark 


A HAND-TO-HAND ENCOUNTER. 1 79 

background. The Woodranger counted sixteen of 
the creatures moving in perfect order under the 
leadership of an old fellow of prodigious size, whose 
head was held high in the air, while he kept a close 
survey of his surroundings. The others followed in 
regular order, spreading out right and left so as to 
form a V-shaped column with the wedge-like point 
foremost. Not a sound broke the silence of the for- 
est scene from the time the leader came into view 
until the last had vanished in the gloom. 

The passage of the geese was a pretty sight to 
Alex, but he had anticipated from the manner of the 
Woodranger and his father some sequel to this flight 
which he did not understand ; but when several 
minutes had passed in silence without bringing any 
solution, he grew impatient. It required no little 
effort to remain quiet such a length of time, but a 
warning gesture from the forester at last gave him 
reason to think the suspense was nearly over. The 
sight which he saw the next moment nearly brought 
a cry of dismay from his lips, in spite of the control 
which he had over himself. 

All at once, without warning, a canoe party had 
darted into view from out of the gloom overhanging 
the stream above them. They counted thirteen in 
the party, the chief a uniformed French officer, with 
eight soldiers and four Indians in their war-paint and 
feathers. Though the gaze of the leader was turned 


l8o THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

alternately in every direction, he did not discover the 
presence of the three in the canoe lying so near that 
it might have been touched with one of the paddles. 
It is needless to say that our friends did not even 
breathe during the brief interval of the passage 
of the enemy, which was made as silently as that 
of the fleeing geese. For a time it seemed to Alex 
that they could not escape discovery, and he sat 
spellbound for some time after the enemy had passed 
out of sight. 

Do you think another load is on the way } asked 
Briant, finally, speaking in a cautious whisper. 

The Woodranger shook his head. 

‘^Tm a bit narvous about Rob,” he said. ‘‘The 
lad wasn’t favoured with so good a place of ambush- 
ment as we. I’ve a mind to perambulate back. 
There may be a scrimmage before it is over.” 

“You can go if you think best,” said Briant. 
“ Alex and I will keep our eyes and ears open. The 
French are surely on the war-path, and that party 
must be bound to Grand Pre, or the Fundy coast.” 

The Woodranger had laid aside his paddle, and 
picked up his gun. As Briant finished speaking, 
he stepped silently out upon the bank of the 
Subenacadie, and while Alex and his father watched 
him he disappeared noiselessly among the shadows 
of the forest, leaving them to await anxiously his 
return. 


A HAND-TO-HAND ENCOUNTER. l8l 

At the time Rob Rogers had been apprised of 
danger by the signal of the Woodranger, he and his 
companions were less than a quarter of a mile behind 
the other canoe, so rapidly had he and Jean moved 
since the pursuit of the Micmacs had been begun, 
well down on Cobequid Bay. Nothing had been 
seen or heard of this war-party since entering the 
Subenacadie, but it was believed that they were 
not far behind. Thus this new alarm showed them 
that again they had enemies in front as well as in the 
rear. 

Accordingly a halt was made, and a hurried con- 
sultation held. The Woodranger must have made a 
close examination of the banks of the river, for he 
was correct in assuming that Rob's party would not 
have a good place of concealment near at hand. 
Though the forest overhung the stream, there was no 
safe place where they could run in the canoe and wait 
the passage of the enemy, as their friends ahead had 
done. But they had more time in which to act, and 
when Rob proposed that they land on the right bank 
of the river, and secrete themselves back in the 
woods, the plan was quickly accepted by Jean, and 
the canoe was headed in that direction. Owing to 
the close proximity of the enemy, the utmost caution 
was necessary in their movements, but the landing 
was effected in silence. Jean lifted Mab in his arms 
and did not put her down until he was three or four 


i 82 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


rods from the river. Rob assisted Mrs. Briant from 
the canoe, and they followed the others, as rapidly as 
possible. A dense barrier of undergrowth was soon 
reached, which promised to be a good place of con- 
cealment, and Mrs. Briant and Mab were told to 
remain there until Rob and Jean could secrete the 
canoe. This was done by lifting the light craft from 
the water and depositing it carefully in the midst of 
a network of running juniper. The two then returned 
to their anxious companions. 

All this had taken place so quickly that the re- 
treating geese had not reached that vicinity, though 
they were close down to the spot. If the place of 
concealment was all that could be expected, the view 
of the stream was cut off. Wishing to know just 
what might take place on the Subenacadie, Rob 
resolved to do a little reconnoitring. Saying as 
much to Jean, he stealthily left the ambush, and 
crept forward in the direction of the stream. 

He came in sight of the silvery band of water 
winding through the forest, at the very moment when 
the white chief of the train of geese swept past, fol- 
lowed by his feathered legion, every head erect and 
watchful of the surroundings. 

They are followed by an enemy,’' thought Rob, 
but he had barely come to this conclusion, when his 
attention was turned from the fugitive geese to an 
object of more startling importance to him. Though 


A HAND-TO-HAND ENCOUNTER. 183 

not a sound had reached his ears, he saw the creep- 
ing juniper a little to his right open, and the head 
of an Indian was thrust into sight ! 

A low, guttural exclamation quickly followed, and 
the brown countenance disappeared at once amid the 
tangle of juniper. The red man had discovered the 
white youth, and also knew that he himself had been 
seen. It was a critical situation for Rob Rogers, who 
had no way of knowing if this Indian were alone or 
accompanied by companions. But it was character- 
istic of him to act promptly in whatever position he 
might find himself. It was this trait which, more 
than anything else, enabled him to pass through so 
many hairbreadth escapes in his adventurous life. 
There might be a score of savage Micmacs within 
hail, but it was this one in front of him whom he 
must first meet. This one must not be allowed to 
give an alarm, for even if he were alone he would 
attract the attention of the party that Rob believed 
was coming down the stream at that moment. He 
had his gun with him, but he did not dare to risk 
a shot, as the report of the weapon would be an 
alarm he did not wish to make. Thus, dropping the 
firearm, he snatched his stout knife from its sheath, 
and sprang straight at the concealed Indian before 
the latter could make an attack on him. 

Although taken by surprise, the red man, attacked 
just as he had opened his mouth to utter the war- 


184 the young gunbearer, 

whoop of his race, defiantly met his daring assailant, 
and the two closed in a struggle which meant life 
or death. From the very onset it became an equal 
tussle for the mastery. If Rob was tall and strong 
of limb, the Micmac warrior was his equal. Crouch- 
ing in the midst of the thicket, he had sprung to his 
feet at the moment of Rob’s attack, and the bushes 
springing back slapped the boy ranger in the face, so 
that he was for an instant bewildered. But he rallied 
swiftly, and seized the Indian about the throat with his 
left hand, while he dealt him a furious blow with the 
knife in his other hand. The blade glanced slightly, 
sufficient to save the red man’s life, and the weapon 
was dashed from Rob’s hold and fell to the ground. 

As his clutch tightened upon the throat of his 
enemy, the other caught him in the same manner, 
and in a moment the couple were holding each other 
at arm’s length, each concentrating his great strength 
to strangle his antagonist. The Micmac had caught 
upon Rob’s wrist with his free hand, in a vain 
attempt to wrest the awful grasp that was suffocat- 
ing him. With his free hand, Rob had seized upon 
the body of his enemy. 

So far not a sound had broken the silence of their 
surroundings, and in this position the two stood for 
what seemed a long time. Unconscious of this tragic 
scene being enacted so close at hand, the canoe party 
under the command of the French officer drifted 


A HAND-TO-HAND ENCOUNTER. 1 85 

down the Subenacadie past the place, and away 
toward Cobequid Bay. Rob was standing so that 
he faced the river, and he caught a gleam of the war- 
party as it sped past, but the next instant he put 
them from his mind, as he sought anew to master his 
foe. His eyes seemed starting from their sockets, 
and he could only breathe by short gasps that were 
full of agony. The red man’s clutch seemed to be a 
grip of iron, while his tenacity of life was even greater, 
for Rob had concentrated all of his great strength to 
crush out the life of the other. 

At that moment Rob felt his foe sinking slightly 
back, and even that little compliance to his pressure 
gave him hope. Rallying, he pushed the other back- 
ward with all the strength he could command. The 
result was a glad surprise to him, for the Micmac 
suddenly lost his footing, and, slipping on the bank of 
the stream, dropped face downward in the water. Un- 
noticed by either of them, he had been standing on the 
brink of the river. Expecting the red man would 
renew the fight, Rob quickly picked up his knife, and 
prepared for a defence, though weak and blinded 
from his recent encounter. But the Micmac did not 
move after he fell, and the excitement passing, Rob 
felt his own strength leaving him, and he slipped 
down upon the ground, where for the time he lay 
powerless. 

Rob could not tell how long he had lain there in 


i86 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


that semi-unconscous condition before the cry of the 
Woodranger’s mocking-bird rang in his ears. He 
rallied sufficiently to reply, but did not attempt to 
regain his feet. He was sure his throat was swollen 
to prodigious size, and it was only with great difficulty 
that he could answer his friend. The latter was 
already near at hand, and a little later he stepped 
silently into the clearing in front of our hero. 


CHAPTER XIX. 


CHALLENGED BY THE ENEMY. 

Rob had recovered himself enough to speak in a 
low tone to the Woodranger, at the same time rising 
to his feet, and confronting his friend. The latter 
instantly understood that something unusual had 
transpired, and he said : 

‘‘Now’s me, there be an alarm in your appear- 
ance, though no word has reached my ol’ ears. Is’t 
because Fve been unmindful o’ my duty ? ” 

“No, Woodranger,” replied Rob, speaking in the 
same cautious tone the other had used. “ It was but 
a trifle, though the red held me hard for a time. Let 
me see if I can And my gun.” 

The Woodranger asked no further question, and 
when Rob had recovered his firearm, he led his com- 
panion to the bank of the river, where both gazed on 
the motionless form of the Micmac, who was still 
lying face downward in the water. The forester 
understood what had taken place, though he made 
no reference to it when he spoke : 

“The inemy has passed down the stream, and is 
187 


1 88 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

getting well along to Cobequid. Is this red varmint 
all you have seen o' the painted heathens ? " 

“ It is, Woodranger ; but he was creeping through 
the brush like a wolf. How many others are skulk- 
ing round I cannot say. The woods may be full of 
them, though I think this one was a spy sent out 
to see what he could find.’' 

Which be a discreet consideration. He found a 
load he will ne’er take back to his kind. I jedge the 
others be safe.” 

‘‘ A few rods away, Woodranger. Are we to keep 
on up the river ? ” 

Sart’in. I jedge the way be toler’ble clear for 
us to the Stewiacke, though that don’t mean that we 
are to go blindfolded. Until we pass the garrison 
at the mouth of the Stewiacke, mebbe we’d better 
keep cluser together. Mind you, I depend much on 
your discretion as to how near, and how dark the 
way may be.” 

‘‘ I understand, Woodranger. While you are get- 
ting back to your canoe I will get my companions 
into this one, and overtake you. The moon will 
soon be flooding the woods with its light.” 

‘‘That be true, lad. And we must reach the 
Stewiacke afore her lamp gets too high ; leastways, 
that is our most discretionary course.” 

Without stopping for Rob's reply, the forester 
started off through the growth as silently as he had 


CHALLENGED BY THE ENEMY. 1 89 

come, while our hero, still suffering from his struggle 
with the Micmac, rejoined his companions in their 
concealment. Nothing had occurred to alarm them, 
and, without dreaming of the fearful ordeal through 
which Rob had passed, they followed him in silence 
back to the bank of the river. As the canoe had 
been left a little below the place of encounter, none 
of them saw the body of the Indian. 

Jean and Rob then carefully placed the canoe back 
upon the water, and, holding it where the others 
could step in, Mrs. Briant and Mab soon seated 
themselves near the middle. Rob then took a posi- 
tion in the bow, while Jean stationed himself in the 
stern. As they paddled out into the middle of the 
stream the moon appeared on the distant horizon, 
though only a few struggling beams penetrated their 
surroundings. 

Mab started slightly as the dismal bark of a wolf 
came from the far distance on their right. The cry 
possessed a lingering intonation, so that it hung 
for what seemed a long time upon the solitude of 
the primeval forest. But it received no response, 
and, finding it was the only sound to break the 
deep silence of vast woods, the little party all 
breathed easier, as they moved forward on their 
lonely journey. 

‘‘Did you learn anything of the Woodranger’s 
meaning in giving his alarm ? asked Jean Vallie, 


1 90 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

when they had got fairly started again. It was a 
trait of the true woodsman never to appear curious, 
or show undue concern over what might really affect 
his personal safety. From the same training, Rob 
had refrained from giving his experience until now. 
In a few words he explained what he had seen and 
done sufficient for his companions to understand the 
situation, though they did not dream how near he had 
been to meeting his death at the hands of the Mic- 
mac. Jean was much pleased with what he learned, 
saying : 

‘‘This war-party going down the river will meet 
the others, and if I do not make a mistake it will 
work to our good. The French will report the 
stream clear, not having seen us, and the Le Noir 
gang may think that we went up the Cobequid in- 
stead of coming up the Subenacadie. You know 
we took extra caution to make it appear we were 
going to do so.’' 

“What you say seems very probable,” said Rob. 
“At any rate, we think we have reason to be hopeful 
of making the Stewiacke without encountering the 
French or Micmacs, unless we run into another war- 
party coming this way. At any rate, they shall not 
catch us napping.” 

In the meantime, the Woodranger had returned to 
his companions, to find both Alex and his father anx- 
iously awaiting his coming. Without further delay, 


CHALLENGED BY THE ENEMY, I9I 

the canoe was pushed out from under its cover, and 
in a minute the three were again ascending the river. 
As before, Briant acted as a lookout, keeping a 
sharp watch ahead for the enemy, while occasionally 
watching for the appearance of the canoe behind 
them. The latter soon overtaking them, the trip up 
the river was continued mile after mile without any 
cause for alarm, until they began to draw near the 
little garrison known as Fort Alliance, and which 
constituted a sort of half-way station for the French 
and Indians passing back and forth between Chebucto 
and the Bay of Fundy, with the intermediate places 
on the way. The Subenacadie rises near Grand 
Lake at the foot of the mountains, and that lake is 
connected with Chebucto Bay by a continuous chain of 
lakelets, thus making an ideal waterway for the Mic- 
macs in their raids north ; for the trails of the Indians 
between distant points always followed such streams 
and bodies of water as lay between the objective 
places. While the red man was capable of prodigious 
journeys on foot, he seldom walked when he could go 
by canoe. 

Briant and Jean Vallie were familiar with the situa- 
tion of the fort at the junction of the Subenacadie and 
the Stewiacke, and finally Briant motioned for a pause. 

“ The fort stands on the left bank of the stream, 
and is less than a quarter of a mile ahead. Had we 
better attempt to pass it as we are going ? 


192 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


How many men are likely to be at the place ? 
asked the Woodranger, the entire conversation car- 
ried on in a whisper. 

dozen, I should say. I never knew of more 
than that number there at a time. There is gen- 
erally a guard on duty near the Subenacadie, but 
never any on the Stewiacke. As soon as we have 
gone up that stream a quarter of a mile we shall be 
clear of the enemy.’* 

I opine it is not a long tramp across the land 
from this stream to the other,” said the Woodranger. 

‘‘The Stewiacke can be reached by going less 
than a mile from here, and without going nearer 
than half a mile to the fort. If it were not for this 
wound of mine we might easily cross in that way.” 

“ Mebbe it will be better for some o’ us to go that 
way, as the smaller the party to pass the garrison, 
the easier. Being a man varsed in the country, it 
may be well for you to set the stick. I’m not above 
being I’arnt a leetle common sense, or ’yon’ taking 
advice.” 

“Jean, being able to speak their language, and in 
fact being one of them in appearance, might be the 
best fitted to undertake getting one of the canoes 
past the place. I think he could take Mary and me, 
and perhaps Mab, in one canoe, and run the gauntlet 
of the French. Jean is a shrewd fellow, and as 
brave as a lion.” 


CHALLENGED BY THE ENEMY. 1 93 

*^A11 o' which shows sound discretion on your 
part. Mebbe the boy could go along with you, 
while Rob and I will creep up so as to be on hand in 
case of a scrimmage. You can count on Rob every 
time. Seeing you past, — mind you, I say presum- 
ing you have passed the allies o' the painted heathens, 
— the lad and I will take the canoe 'cross to the 
other string o' water. Having come to this agree- 
ment, it may be discreet for us to act with prompt- 
ness. Here comes Rob, and while you double up 
your load Fll perambulate round a bit." 

The Woodranger left the canoe, as he had sug- 
gested, and Mrs. Briant and Mab were assisted in, 
followed by Alex, whom it was thought best to take 
with them. Jean then took charge, assuring the 
others that he would contrive to pass the fort some- 
how. Rob took the remaining canoe toward the bank. 
Stepping out into the shallow water before the craft 
had touched bottom, he lifted the canoe out upon 
the land. Then he waited for the return of the 
Woodranger, who had vanished into the forest. 

The Subenacadie was still a stream of consider- 
able width, though above the fork of the Stewiacke 
it suddenly narrowed. Jean steered his course along 
the middle, no longer moving as noiselessly as pos- 
sible, but assuming a carelessness he was far from 
feeling. This was done to give his approach the 
appearance of a party feeling safe from attack by 


194 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


those occupying the country. He even began to 
sing one of the popular boat songs of the St. Law- 
rence, his deep, melodious voice filling the night air 
with its rich music : 

“ ‘ Derriere chez nous ya’t — un dtang, 

Fringue ! Fringue sur I’aviron ! 

Trois beaux canards s’en vont baignant, 

Fringue ! Fringue sur la riviere! 

Fringue ! Fringue sur I’avironl 

“ ‘ Avec son grand fusil d’argent, 

Fringue ! Fringue sur I’aviron ! 

Visa le noir, tua le blanc. 

F ringue ! F ringue sur la riviere 
Fringue ! Fringue sur I’aviron. 

« ‘ Trois beaux canards s’en vont baignant ! 

Fringue ! Fringue sur I’aviron I 
Le fils du roi s’en va chassant. 

Fringue ! Fringue sur la riviere ! 

Fringue ! — ’ ” 

Silence, you noisy knave ! '' suddenly broke in 
upon the song of Jean Vallie, as he plied his paddles 
in unison with Alex along the winding Subenacadie, 
in close proximity to the lone fortress in the wilder- 
ness. 

‘‘ Silence, yourself,'' cried the Basque, defiantly, 
“ till I have finished my merry song. 

“ ‘ Le fils du roi s’en va chassant, 

Fringue ! Fringue sur I’av — ’ ” 


CHALLENGED BY THE ENEMY, 1 95 

Stop ! fairly roared the unseen challenger, in a 
ringing French voice. Silence, or I’ll put a bullet 
through your thick head.” 

By this time Jean had run the canoe in near 
enough to the bank to discover the faint outlines of 
a man standing back a short distance, holding in a 
threatening manner a long-barrel musket. Back of 
this single foeman rose the dark walls of Fort Alli- 
ance. 

‘‘Your pardon, monsieur,” Jean hastened to say, in 
a tone of great civility. “ I did not mean to disturb 
your slumber with my foolish song, but I forgot, and 
was dreaming that I was back in old Quebec, and 
that I was a youth again. What cheer here in the 
wilderness ? ” 

“ Who are you prowling through the country as if 
the sound of a musket was unknown to you ? ” 

“A peaceful traveller, monsieur, on his way to 
Chebucto with his family.” 

“One of the accursed Neutrals!” exclaimed the 
soldier, for such he was. 

“Not if I know my father’s spirit,” cried Jean, 
quickly. “ The wrong of years demands justice, but 
I must first see my family safe at my journey’s end.” 

“ Then you are bound to Chebucto ? ” 

“ Pray where else does the Subenacadie lead ? ” 

“True enough. If you are not a Neutral, then 
what are you.^” 


196 THE YOUNG ^ GUNBEARER. 

‘‘A Gunbearer!'' replied Jean, boldly, resuming 
his passage up the stream, as if his answer had been 
sufficient. 

“ Hold ! cried the sentry, swiftly raising his gun 
so its long barrel was pointed ominously at the little 
party of fugitives ; you have not given the pass- 
word, and my orders are to let none pass here with- 
out it, be he friend or foe.” 

Jean Vallie realised that the critical moment of 
their flight had come, and that to fail in his reply 
meant disaster to them. While he hesitated for an 
instant, Briant whispered : 

‘‘ Try ‘ Main-a-Dieu.' ” 


CHAPTER XX. 


TALES OF THE GREENWOOD. 

‘‘ Main-X-Dieu ! '' said Jean Vallie, beginning to 
move forward again without waiting for a reply from 
the soldier, who muttered something he did not hear, 
but allowed him to keep on. The shrewd Basque 
made no attempt to display any caution until the 
mouth of the Stewiacke was reached, when he began 
to move with all the silence possible. The canoe 
was headed up this smaller stream, both he and 
Alex sending the light boat along against the current 
with strong, noiseless strokes. For a brief while 
Briant, whose ears were strained to catch any sound, 
heard confused cries from the direction of the fort, 
but if any pursuit was made, nothing came of it. 

The Stewiacke was a stream considerably smaller 
than the Subenacadie, and our party soon found 
that their progress must necessarily be slower and 
more tedious. After going what he judged to be 
a quarter of a mile, Jean ceased his rowing and 
motioned for Alex to do the same. 

might as well rest here a few minutes for 


197 


198 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

the Others,” he said. I think you will be glad of 
a breathing-spell, Alex, for it has been a long, steady 
pull.” 

‘<Do you think the danger is past.?” asked Mrs. 
Briant, anxiously. 

‘‘The worst of it, madam. Of course we have 
got to keep our eyes open, but each dip of the 
paddle widens the distance between us and our 
enemies until we have made the St. Mary’s River, 
when again we shall be running into the lion’s jaws.” 

“ Here come Woodranger and the boy,” said Briant, 
in a tone of gladness. “Any news of alarm.?” he 
asked of the forester. 

“The French do show consarn, and a couple o’ 
soldiers have gone up the Subenacadie. Mebbe 
you’ll consider it only a word o’ discretion if I ’vise 
that we move ahead with as leetle delay as possible. 
I opine we shall have to move slower arter this. 
While the rest o’ you be changing our loads so they 
will be the same as afore. I’ll scout back a bit. 
There is no telling who may be hanging on your 
heels.” 

Ten minutes later the entire party was moving 
slowly and cautiously up the Stewiacke, the Wood- 
ranger, Briant, and Alex in the foremost canoe, while 
the others followed close behind. Not a word was 
uttered until the forest was touched with the rosy 
beams of another day, and their pathway no longer 


TALES OF THE GREENWOOD, 


199 


lay under the darkness of the overhanging woods, 
when the Woodranger suddenly stopped rowing, and, 
motioning silence to his companions, pointed ahead. 

If alarmed at first, this fear swiftly fled, as Alex 
and his father saw a pair of sheldrake ducks dart 
from a thicket on the bank of the stream and, swim- 
ming rapidly across the water, disappear the next 
moment somewhere in the water-rushes beyond. As 
brief as was the view of them, they presented a pretty 
picture of wild wood life. 

The sheldrake duck,'' commented the Wood- 
ranger, as they vanished in the bushes ; ‘‘ and you 
may rest assured that no human being is nigh, unless 
he has crept upon these birds unawares, as we have 
done. I think it'll be discreet to stop a bit and rest. 
It's ag'in human natur' to move alwus, especially if 
sich be woman natur'." 

As he ceased speaking the Woodranger stepped 
out into the shallow water, and Alex followed his 
example. The forester then lifted Briant up in his 
arms and laid him carefully down upon the ground 
not far from the bank of the river. The canoe was 
next raised from the water, and placed bottom up in 
a spot where it would get the most sunlight, so that 
it might dry while they waited here. Next to his 
gun, the true woodsman cared for the canoe which 
bore him on his long journeys. Whenever it could 
be avoided one of them was never allowed to touch 


200 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the bottom of a stream, and as soon as a halt was 
made these light crafts were lifted out of the water 
and placed, as the Woodranger had his, upside down, 
so that they would not only cause the water to run 
off, but that they might dry so as to be as light as 
possible when the journey was resumed. 

By this time the other canoe had reached the land- 
ing-place, and the forester went back into the forest 
a short distance to prepare a spot for camping and to 
rest for a few hours. First gathering some boughs, 
he covered these with a deep layer of leaves, so that 
he soon had comfortable couches for Mr. Briant, who 
sadly needed the rest, and for Mrs. Briant and Mab. 

‘‘ It is natuF to sleep, for sleep means rest,’' he 
said to Alex, who had lent his assistance in preparing 
this place for comfort. I opine it will be best for 
the females to sleep awhile. And I hope you won’t 
feel I have committed an indiscretion if I ’vise you to 
catch a bit o’ sleep, too. There be a long jarney 
ahead o’ us. Here come the others, and mebbe I’ll 
take a short perambulation to see that no inemy be 
lurking nigh. You can say as much to Rob, who 
knows how to treat an ol’ man’s whims.” 

His tall figure was vanishing in the distance as 
the rest of the fugitives reached the place, Briant 
assisted hither by Rob and Jean. This stop was 
appreciated by the Briant family, all of whom, ex- 
cepting Alex, were well worn by the fatigues of the 


TALES OF THE GREENWOOD, 


201 


perilous flight. Both Rob and Jean urged them to 
lie down and sleep, as soon as they had eaten of the 
bacon and barley bread that they had taken with 
them. Half an hour later this advice had been acted 
upon so far that two, at least, of the party, Mrs. 
Briant and Mab, were fast asleep. Briant was rest- 
ing as comfortably as possible, while even Jean did 
not deny himself repose on the leaf-carpeted earth. 
Finally, Rob Rogers, wondering where the Wood- 
ranger could be, stole down to the bank of the 
Stewiacke, followed a moment after by the alert 
Alex. At that moment the Woodranger was seen 
coming from the forest. 

‘‘Any sign, Woodranger.?'' asked Rob. 

“ Only the sign o' peace, lad. I have taken a 
goodish perambulation o' the woods and I feel better 
for it. The rest are discreet in seeking comfort in 
their own way." 

“Why is it you never rest, Woodranger.?" asked 
Alex. “ Don't you ever get tired .? " 

“ Tired, lad .? Mebbe I get the wrong drift o' 
your idee. If by being tired you mean tired of set- 
ting on my haunches, like a fat goose that cannot 
waddle on 'count its own weight, then I should prev- 
icate the truth did I say ‘ Nay.' If by getting tired 
you mean tired o' the free use o' those limbs given 
me by a wise Creator as a means of recreation, then 
I should break the divine law by answering ‘Ay.' 


202 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


Durst think I ne’er rest, when for a long hour Fve 
been breshing the cobwebs from the briar and juni- 
per with feet that were given me for use, and legs 
that weary from inaction and not from motion ? 

The value o’ a pair o’ good legs — and all legs 
would be good if properly trained — be not known 
to him who squats on some means o’ conveyance and 
complains o’ the slight natur’ has put on him when 
he acts at variance with her intentions. Legs were 
made to carry the body and not as a roosting-place. 
There be no rest like a smart perambulation o’ the 
woods, and no mender o’ tiredness like the breath o’ 
the pine forest scented with the birch and maple. I 
was tired, lad, with my legs doubled up like a broken 
stick in that bit o’ birch bark ; I be rested now arter 
my brisk walk in the fresh morning.” 

By the way, Woodranger,” said Alex, there 
is a question I wish to ask you about those geese. 
How did you know the French officer and his crew 
were behind them, when we stopped on the Suben- 
acadie t ” 

‘‘ I I’arned that in the book o’ natur’, lad, long ere 
you ever see’d a goose,” replied the Woodranger, 
with a smile. I don’t mind Taming it to you, 
seeing you’re a likely lad who keeps his eyes and ears 
open. The goose be a wary creetur’, and he ne’er 
prowls abroad blind to his own danger. His scent is 
keen, his ear clear, his eye bright. The wind was 


TALES OF THE GREENWOOD. 


203 


right last evening for him to scent an inemy coming 
down the stream, while he could not have scented 
our approach. Mebbe that flock had put in for quar- 
ters till morning, when their chief discovered the 
approach o’ ’em whom he knew was an inemy, when 
he marshalled his troop and marched ’em down the 
river for the open bay, where they would be able 
to escape. Minded you how regular the ol’ fellow 
marched his men ? ” 

‘‘Yes; but I always supposed the goose was the 
most stupid and foolish of all bird-kind.” 

“That is ’cause you have been taught from the 
book o’ man and not natur’s own. It be true that 
the tame goose does sometimes ’pear stupid, but, 
if he is, his wild kin is far from it. In p’int o’ 
fact, no bird be more gifted in the knack o’ seeing, 
and not one has a better idee o’ location and dis- 
tance. Then, too, he is a great talker and planner 
o’ his doings, which to me speaks o’ a high sense 
o’ the fitness o’ things, and shows that he has power 
o’ reason. 

“ I claim no great knack at trailing sich idees o’ 
them that speak not in my tongue, but the language 
o’ the wild goose is easy to read. I remember one 
fall, as I was hunting up north, that a flock o’ wild 
geese came trooping over my head, and as I was 
standing on a high bluff I was brought purty nigh to 
’em, though I was kivered from ’em. I had heerd 


204 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the gang a-talking among 'emselves, for all the world 
as a party o’ men might do. They was headed south, 
with the ol’ chief at his proper place. For some 
reason which I ne’er understood, jest as he got over 
my head he sheered short off to the west, and sung 
out to his followers to do the same. But this didn’t 
seem to suit one o’ his lieutenants, who answered 
him purty pert and kept on toward the south. At 
this some followed the rebel, while others took arter 
the ol’ chief. I noticed they were all young birds 
that kept straight ahead. 

‘‘ Seeing his order had been disobeyed, the ol’ chief 
wheeled about, shouting and screaming for all the 
world as a leader of men might do, who was in the 
same fix. He rushed in ahead of the new leader, and 
one o’ the sharpest scrimmages with the tongue fol- 
lowed that I ever heerd. I can’t say that the ol’ 
goose took vain language, as men are too prone to 
do when in anger, but I do know he told that rebel- 
lious goose what he thought o’ him. Then he fired 
his hot shot at the others, who one by one began to 
head toward the west. This went on until the rebel 
was left alone with his scolding commander. O’ 
course I can ne’er give you the expressions that 
couple uttered, but I ne’er heerd dialogue ’tween 
human beings that showed plainer the passions o’ the 
breast o’ man or beast. They showed rage at being 
defied, stubbornness at being commanded to do what 


TALES OF THE GREENWOOD. 


205 


one did not want to do, and a determination not to 
give up on both sides. 

But the or chief, who had no doubt led his train 
on ^em long trips for many years, finally conquered. 
Alter giving the other a last scolding, he took his 
place at the head, and the entire body sailed away to 
the westward. For some time after they had got 
started I could hear their furious scolding and fault- 
finding. With all this confusion, their ranks were 
unbroken as soon as they had got started aghn. 
And as the wild geese fly, so do they swim or 
march, always in perfect order.'' 

‘‘I did not know that geese ever marched,’' said 
Alex. have noticed that they generally fly in 

wedge-shaped columns." 

‘^It be not to your discredit, lad, that you have 
ne'er seen geese marching, and they have small 
credit for sich doings. But the truth is the goose 
knows the value o' a pair o' good legs as well as 
strong wings. Further north wild geese do much o' 
their perambulation on foot, often marching many 
miles together. In doing this they always have a 
leader, who gives out his orders with as good jedg- 
ment as an officer o' a body o' soldiers. They gin- 
erally march ten abreast, and whenever there is a 
chance to feed they fall out of line, at a signal from 
their chief, but not at any other time. At a word 
from him, they resume their places, each goose being 


206 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


keerful to get back into his oF position. If they 
should come to a body o' water, they’d swim acrost 
as they marched, ten geese wide. I’ve known a flock 
to march twelve miles in a day." 


CHAPTER XXI. 


RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 

Hark ! unless my oV ears deceive me, I hear the 
roar o' rapids ahead." 

As the words indicate, the speaker was the Wood- 
ranger, though the time and the scene has changed 
since last we met him in company with Rob Rogers 
and Alex Briant on the bank of the Stewiacke. It 
is now the evening of the succeeding night, and the 
fugitives are no longer following the devious wind- 
ings of the tributary of the Subenacadie, but are 
moving cautiously down the west branch of the St. 
Mary's River, which empties its waters into the bay 
by that name above the town of Sherbrooke. It had 
been the original plan of Mr. Briant to strike across 
the country so as to reach one of the streams running 
into Northumberland Straits, and thence down the 
river and up the straits to a small settlement of 
Scots on Barney River. But his condition would 
not admit of making such a long overland journey, 
and when the Stewiacke had been followed to its 
source, it was as much as he could do to bear the 


207 


208 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


trip of a few .miles to the head waters of the St. 
Mary’s, though borne on a rude litter by his com- 
panions. Two trips had been necessitated on the 
part of the Woodranger and Rob, but this had been 
accomplished, and the little party, still divided, had 
started down the latter river with rising courage as 
the end of the tedious journey began to draw near. 
At a small settlement of English near the mouth of 
this stream, it was believed the fugitives would meet 
with a cordial welcome and protection. 

As the Woodranger uttered his announcement of 
the sound of falls in the river not far distant, he 
steered the canoe in toward the right bank, where 
he and Alex held it up against the current, while the 
three — Briant still being one of their number — 
listened for a proof of his statement. The moon 
was still far below the horizon, and the sky cloudy, 
so that it was too dark to see distinctly, but the 
steady roar of rushing water was borne to their ears. 

‘‘ It sounds as if there were falls of several feet in 
height,” said Briant, ‘‘though I did not know that 
the St. Mary had any cataracts which could not be 
made by canoe.” 

“ The sound is too broken to be made by a single 
fall,” declared the Woodranger. “I jedge there be 
rapids, and not far away, though it be indiscreet in 
me to say what in all consistency I can ne’er know. 
I wonder where Rob is.” 


RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 


209 


As the Woodranger concluded his speech, he gave 
expression to one of the signals so well understood 
by him and Rob, and then bent his head to catch 
the reply, which came with more promptness than he 
had expected. It not only told him that the others 
were following them in safety, but that they were 
not far behind. 

‘‘ Mebbe we'd better climb down the brook a leetle, 
and sort o' s'arch out the way. Rob will follow with 
proper discretion. Alack ! how narvous I be getting 
o'er what in all consistency can ne'er be o'ermuch ! 
I s'pose it be the weakness which comes with one's 
years." 

Saying this, which was spoken more to himself 
than his companions, the Woodranger turned the 
prow of the canoe back into the middle of the 
stream, and the passage down the St. Mary's was 
resumed. Since leaving the Subenacadie they had 
penetrated into a region of dense growth comprising 
pine, spruce, birch, beech, and maple, a tract of 
country which has since been not inaptly designated 
as Edenland." On the summer night the aroma of 
the resinous woods lay heavy on the fragrant air, 
while the only sound that broke the silence was the 
constant roar of the stream, which grew louder and 
deeper in volume as they sped on. At places the 
stream spread out into little coves, where the water 
was calm and the light sufficient for the canoeists to 


210 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


catch a passing gleam of their surroundings. These 
places were invariably succeeded by a narrowing of 
the stream and swiftness of the current, which made 
it necessary for the Woodranger and Alex to exer- 
cise their utmost strength to keep the slight boat 
right side up and clear of the rocky heads thrust 
forbiddingly above the foaming waters. At these 
points where the light was needed most, the trees 
overhung the banks, until their branches interlocked, 
and the dangerous course was made as dark as possi- 
ble under a starless sky. 

The roar of the rapids was now becoming terrific, 
telling them that they were close down to the series 
of cataracts, which every indication showed were im- 
passable in the light skiff under them. Accordingly, 
the Woodranger watched for the next favourable 
place for landing the canoe, and soon ran the boat 
in toward the bank. Springing out into the shal- 
low water, he pulled the light craft up under the 
overhanging foliage, where he held it, saying to his 
companions : 

‘‘ We shall have to make this a carrying-place, and 
if you'll keep a lookout for the others, lad. I’ll get 
your father ashore.” 

This had to be shouted in a loud tone, and, while 
Alex signified his readiness to obey, the forester pre- 
pared to carry out his intentions. While they were 
doing this, Rob and Jean Vallie were having the 


RUNNING THE RAPIDS, 


211 


same struggle experienced by the others to keep 
their canoe from being dashed upon the rocks. This 
they accomplished successfully until they were nearly 
down to the stopping-place of their companions, 
when a peculiar accident occurred which completely 
baffled their efforts, and gave our hero more than he 
could do. 

In passing one of the narrows in the stream, the 
canoe was sent in close to the right bank, though 
Jean managed to save it from being hurled against 
the rocky barrier. But the boat lurched so that 
Mrs. Briant and Mab would have been thrown out 
into the raging water but for a superhuman effort on 
their part and that of Rob. At this critical moment, 
when so much was depending on the exertions of 
Jean, he felt a furious blow upon the side of his 
neck, and the next instant he was lifted, as if by a 
gigantic hand, into mid-air, and sent flying through 
space. 

Though it was too dark to see what had taken 
place, Rob was quickly aware of some disaster to his 
companion, since the canoe, no longer guided by his 
paddle, swiftly spun around stern foremost. This 
was done with such a force and velocity that it 
seemed a miracle none of the three left in the birchen 
boat was sent head-first into the rushing water. 

Mrs. Briant and Mab both screamed in their fright, 
and Rob, anticipating what lay in their pathway from 


212 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the deafening thunder of falling water, attempted to 
retrieve something of what they had lost. But, caught 
in the rapid current, it was all he could do to keep 
the canoe from being dashed on the rocks, to say 
nothing of checking its mad career. In the midst 
of his futile struggles the cries of Alex Briant rang 
in his ears : 

Hold on — the rapids — the rapids ! 

The Woodranger caught a passing glance of the 
runaway canoe as it swept past and went out of 
sight, careening over until the gunwales lipped the 
water. Leaving Alex to remain with his father, he 
ran down the river bank in the hope of being of 
some assistance to the castaways. 

As the canoe sped forward on its wild career, car- 
ried on with frightful velocity into perils of which 
Rob was in entire ignorance, except for that fearful 
warning from the roaring waters, he first tried to 
check the furious advance by the vigorous use of his 
paddle. But he soon found that at the most he 
could only guide the course of the runaway craft, 
and trust to his strong arm and the strength of the 
frail boat to carry him and his companions to the 
foot of the descent. He knew that the canoe had 
been well built, and that its very lightness was likely 
to stand it in good stead now. 

Still, the rugged banks of the rapid stream were 
set with rocky angles, and huge boulders were scat- 


RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 


213 


tered along the watery course. Rob saw little of his 
surroundings, as he was carried on with increasing 
velocity, but he saw enough to know the peril that 
encompassed him, and that his only hope lay in keep- 
ing the canoe in the middle of the stream. The 
roar of rushing water was now terrific, but he real- 
ised that it was not rising any higher in volume. 
This fact proved to him that there was no cataract 
ahead. There being no high falls, it was not impos- 
sible that he might shoot the rapids without disaster. 

With this thought giving him courage, the first 
stage of the wild journey was passed, and he had 
managed to steer clear of the rocky barriers on either 
hand. He no longer thought of trying even to 
check the speed with which the boat was drawn 
downward by the current with the velocity of an 
arrow. 

Suddenly a louder uproar of the stormy current 
rang in his ears, and a cloud of spray was flung into 
his face. The dark outlines of a huge rock rising 
from the middle of the stream stood out for a mo- 
ment in the foreground of foaming waters, and he 
struggled with all his strength to turn the canoe 
aside into the right branch of the divided current. 
But no arm could avail against such a power. The 
canoe spun half-way around in spite of him. Then 
it was driven against the stony obstruction, and, held 
there by the force of the current, remained motion- 


2 14 YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

less for the time. But her side had been stove in, 
and the water poured through upon the occupants. 

Realising that the canoe was lost, Rob thought 
next of saving the lives of those with him. With 
that presence of mind which was a part of his nature, 
he flung his paddle toward the shore, and, picking up 
his gun, sent that after it, following this with Jean's 
musket. He then shouted to Mrs. Briant to cling 
to the rock, while he clasped Mab in one arm and 
climbed upon the boulder. Accomplishing this feat, 
he was in season to assist Mrs. Briant to a seat 
beside him. 

Lightened of its burden, the canoe heeled around 
into the current. Tossed for a moment on the 
stormy surface of the stream, in another instant it 
was swept down into the whirlpool of waters, to be 
seen no more, carrying with it all they had possessed, 
except the weapons. 

Mab was crying in Rob’s arms, so he placed her in 
the clasp of her mother. Then he shouted to them 
to have courage. The reply of the brave woman 
was drowned by the sound of the rapids. 

Rob was trying to get a better idea of their situa- 
tion, in the hope of finding some way to reach the 
bank of the river, when the voice of the Woodranger 
came faintly to his ears above the roar of the water. 
His reply was answered by another cry from his 
friend, who soon after appeared on the bank opposite 


RUNNING THE RAPIDS. 


215 


him. The width of the stream proved less than had 
been expected, and fifteen minutes later the three on 
the rock had gained the river bank beside the Wood- 
ranger, who listened to Rob's account of their dan- 
gerous passage of the rapids with more surprise than 
he was accustomed to display. 

It be a miracle none o' you were lost, and I 
count that to the strong arm o' Rob. The birch be 
gone, but let us not repine, for there be the other 
remaining. That reminds me o' 'em I left so un- 
ceremoniously with it. Mebbe we'd better perambu- 
late back and see how it be with 'em." 

<< And find Jean, if he is dead or alive," said Rob. 
‘‘ I can't understand what happened to him. It 
seemed just as if a mighty hand had reached down 
and taken him from the canoe." 

Their hearts were filled with thanksgiving over 
their escape, although they felt great anxiety over 
the unknown fate of the faithful Basque, as they 
started back up the bank of the St. Mary's, after 
having found the firearms Rob had flung ashore. 
These were uninjured, greatly to their delight. 


CHAPTER XXII. 


A RIDE ON A MOOSE. 

The Woodranger led the way in silence to where 
he had left Alex and his father, and found them 
anxiously awaiting the appearance of their friends. 

‘‘ Have all escaped ? '' asked Mr. Briant, as soon 
as he became aware of the presence of the others, 
though he could not distinguish them in the dark- 
ness. 

‘^If we 'cept Jean, that be the truth. In all con- 
sistency we shall soon know the sort o’ amazement 
he has fallen into. Mebbe Rob and I won’t be gone 
long.” 

Leaving the reunited family to exchange congratu- 
lations and express their sympathy with each other, 
the Woodranger and Rob advanced up the bank of 
the stream in search of the missing man. While 
Rob felt quite confident that Jean had not fallen into 
the river, it seemed very probable that he had, and 
at that moment his mangled body might be tossed at 
the mercy of the rapids far below them. Still, he 
and the Woodranger pursued their search with dili- 
216 


A RIDE ON A MOOSE. 


217 


gence, and in the midst of it they were glad to hear 
a cry which they recognised as coming from Jean. 

A minute later they found the Basque sitting bolt 
upright on the bank of the stream, rubbing his head 
and giving expression to exclamations of mingled 
surprise and pain. Jean was not seriously injured, 
but he was so confused and bewildered by his adven- 
ture that it was some time before he could even 
stand on his feet. In answer to Rob's inquiry, all 
the explanation he could give of the affair was that 
he had received a terrific blow on the side of his 
head and neck, and that he seemed to have been 
suddenly lifted from the canoe and flung backward 
into the forest, where he had fallen with such force 
as to be rendered unconscious for awhile. In their 
haste to get started again on their journey, none of 
them made a thorough examination of the scene to 
ascertain just what had befallen Jean, but all agreed 
that he had been struck by some tree bowed over 
the stream, and that the force of the blow had not 
only carried him from the canoe, but landed him on 
the bank of the river. As long as he had escaped 
with his life, it did not matter just how it had been 
done. It was suffieient that the generous Jean had 
not suffered any more serious harm, though it would 
be several days before the pain of the blow would 
cease. 

Upon returning to Mr. Briant and his family, a 


2I8 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


short consultation was held, the conclusion reached 
being that there was but one course for them to 
pursue. They must go on with the one remaining 
canoe, after having carried it below the rapids. 
From that place it was decided best for the fugitives 
to keep on toward their destination without the 
Woodranger and Rob, both of whom felt that it was 
their duty to hasten on toward Main-a-Dieu with as 
little loss of time as possible. If the Woodranger 
had personal reasons for suggesting a division of the 
party so quickly, none but Rob mistrusted it, and he 
wisely remained silent. He saw clearly the need of 
greater haste in reaching the threatened settlement, 
and was not adverse to agreeing to what his com- 
panion suggested. 

Having decided upon their course of action, no 
further time was lost in carrying out the plan. First 
of all the remaining canoe, with such portables as 
they had taken in it, must be transferred to the river 
below the rapids, and as Jean, who still felt unable 
to lend his assistance, volunteered to remain with 
the Briants, Rob and the Woodranger went on the 
first trip down the forest. 

Jean was not one to bewail his fate, and while his 
head felt pretty sore, his heart was as light as ever, 
and he declared that he would be strong enough to 
move with the rest as soon as their friends should 
return. 


A RIDE ON A MOOSE, 


219 


“ That was a short ride compared to one I took on 
the back of a moose when I was a youngster, and 
that clip on the head was nothing compared to the 
blow I received then. Want to hear the story, eh. 
Mademoiselle Mabel } Perhaps it will keep the time 
from hanging heavily on our hands while we wait for 
the New Englanders to return. But, upon my word, 
it had quite escaped my memory till this foolish little 
matter recalled it. 

‘‘As I began by saying I was a youngster when 
the adventure I am going to describe took place, I 
will explain further that I had joined the fortunes 
of a party of moose-hunters who had set out from 
near Port Royal to hunt deer on the Perot, which 
was at that time a great stamping-ground for the 
animals. It was in the dead of winter, and the snow 
lay two or three feet deep on the ground. But we 
didn't mind the snow with our snow-shoes, which 
were long and narrow like the ones made by the 
Micmacs, a framework of ash wood woven across 
with deer-thongs, and strips of the same stout mate- 
rial to hold them on. 

“ The second night found us camped on the Perot, 
the snow scraped away to the ground for a circle a 
dozen feet in diameter, and ourselves as comfortable 
as possible in our fur robes and the cheery fire made 
of moose wood." Our guide, who was a half-Indian, 

^ Maple. 


220 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


a shrewd, cautious fellow, had discovered signs of 
deer that afternoon, and he assured us the herd was 
led by an old moose of great size. In my youth 
and inexperience, I expressed my disappointment at 
not following up the trail instead of settling down to 
camp an hour before sunset. But Injun Joe shook 
his head, saying: 

“‘Mebbe moose come to us while wait; better’n 
running after him. Morrer see.' 

I had to learn then that moose do not wander so 
very far from their feeding-grounds, unless driven off 
by enemies or forced to change their base on account 
of a scarcity of herbage. When the snow becomes 
very deep, or a crust forms on it so it is hard to 
move about, the moose belonging to the herd unite 
in tramping down the snow for a considerable dis- 
tance, sometimes making an area a mile in circuit, so 
the weaker portion of their number can browse at 
will upon the young trees. These places are called 
deer-yards, and it is one of the prettiest sights I ever 
saw to witness a herd of these innocent creatures 
skipping about for their breakfast, nibbling first at 
one tree and then another, the old moose looking 
on at some conspicuous place like a sentry on duty, 
sniffing the air every now and then in anticipation of 
danger. 

‘‘Well, anxious as I was to be on hand in the chase 
which we expected the following morning, I slept 


A RIDE ON A MOOSE. 


221 


soundly after the previous day’s tramp until I was 
awakened by a shake from Injun Joe. Starting up, 
I looked around as if expecting to see the old moose 
and his family right before me. Although I didn’t 
see any such sight, I was soon apprised by Joe of 
the fact that the whole herd was browsing less than 
half a mile to the south of us. Early as it was, he 
had been on a little trip of discovery, and had just 
got back. 

It had been thawing for two or three days, and, 
as the night had been pretty cold, the snow had 
formed a crust which promised to bear our weights, 
so no one stopped to put on his snow-shoes. Look- 
ing carefully to the priming of our firearms, we all 
rushed away toward our prey, each foolishly anxious 
to get the first shot. When we had gone about a 
quarter of a mile our guide suddenly stopped, hold- 
ing up his left hand as a signal for us to do the same. 

We hadn’t more than come to a halt before we 
sighted the old moose and his followers fleeing across 
the range to our south. The sight fired our blood, 
and, like a party of half-wild boys, we bounded ahead 
eager to get within gunshot. At sight of us the 
moose headed farther away, though he was not in 
season to escape being the target of every gun in 
that company of hunters. But if he was hit, not a 
shot took effect enough to check in the least his 
flight. 


222 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘‘ In the excitement of the occasion I heard Injun 
Joe cry out that the moose would try to reach one of 
the valleys on our right, and that we had better head 
in that direction if we wished to get another shot. 
The fact that he had started on that course, more 
than his words, caused me to change toward the 
west, though the majority of our party kept on toward 
the south. I saw or heard nothing more of them 
until I had passed through one of the most thrilling 
experiences of my life. 

‘T soon found that I was nowhere in a race with 
Injun Joe, though I had often boasted of my ability 
as a runner. He seemed to skim over the snow like 
a bird. But I did the best I could, and, without try- 
ing to keep in his footsteps, sheered more to my left, 
in the hope I should be fortunate enough to cut off 
the fleeing moose ahead of him ! Though I am now 
familiar with every foot of that country, it was new to 
me then, and in the midst of my headlong pursuit 
I suddenly found myself on the brink of a sheer 
descent of nearly twenty feet. 

‘‘ I tried to stop myself the moment I realised my 
predicament, but I was going at such a furious gait 
that, in spite of all I could do, I was carried over 
the edge of the rock into the depths below. In the 
brief interval, when I had seemed suspended on the 
brow of the cliff, I caught sight of the tree-tops 
below, and coming through the scattering growth I 


A RIDE ON A MOOSE. 


223 


had a glimpse of the herd, with the old moose in 
the lead. 

After a suffocating sensation lasting for a few 
seconds, I found my descent abruptly broken, and 
myself astride of a moving object. It must have 
been more instinct than anything else that caused 
me to hold fast to the first thing my hands touched, 
while I was borne on at a pace which put to shame 
my powers of locomotion. 

‘‘ I had been carried a considerable distance before 
I recovered enough to know that I was taking the 
strangest ride I had ever known. My steed was the 
moose, flying at the head of his train, and I barely 
kept from being thrown by clinging to his big ears ! 

When I had recovered sufficient to realise my 
position, I saw that the old monarch of the woods 
was more startled than I, though I felt that my 
position was extremely dangerous. Besides the dan- 
ger of falling off and being trampled under the feet 
of him and his followers, I was likely to be struck by 
the branches of the trees and hurled senseless to the 
ground. 

An old bull-moose is generally a tough customer 
to grapple with, and I always prefer to have them at 
good gunshot, with a weapon that I can depend on. 
But there I was, and, when the first shock of my fall 
was over, I began to calculate on my chances of 
escaping with my life. I had dropped my gun when 


224 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


I had gone headlong over the cliff, but I did have 
with me a keen-bladed knife that I carried in those 
days. The moose was making such tremendous 
leaps, as he bounded ahead, that I hardly dared to 
loosen my hold enough to use the knife. With 
terrific snorts of mingled rage and terror, his head 
laid back so his huge antlers almost hit against me, 
he bounded madly forward. I had been told that so 
great is the endurance of a moose that he can run 
for a hundred miles without stopping. My hair 
fairly stood on end as I thought of a hundred-mile 
race like that ! Presently I became aware of one 
thing which afforded me considerable consolation. 
The crust on the snow was decidedly against him, as 
he broke through at every step, and the sharp edges 
of the fiint-like surface must be cutting deep gashes 
into his legs. 

After going a distance that I afterward found to 
be nearly half a dozen miles, we came in sight of a 
thick wood, where I could see the branches of the 
trees grew low, and were in many places held down 
by loads of frozen snow. I honestly think the old 
moose hailed this cover with delight, for he actually 
quickened his gait at sight of the deep woods. He 
must have known from experience that he would find 
the crust softer and thinner there, while who knows 
but that he anticipated ridding himself of his unnat- 
ural burden by means of the friendly trees ? 



“ ‘ I LET GO OF ONE EAR AND GRASPED MY KNIFE.’ 




t 




A RIDE ON A MOOSE, 


225 


I knew that my career would meet with a speedy 
end unless I did something to save myself. So I let 
go of one ear and grasped my knife with my right 
hand. I thought just back of the fore shoulder 
would be the best place for me to strike, and I gave 
all the energy I could to the stroke, burying the 
blade up to the handle. The red blood spurted up 
into my face, and the big creature trembled and 
reeled for a moment, but rallied with a furious snort, 
and sped on at a wilder pace than before. The next 
instant I was dealt a terrific blow, and while the air 
seemed filled with dancing stars I was sent into the 
snow a dozen feet away, where I lay unconscious. 

‘‘When I returned to consciousness Injun Joe was 
bending over me, and my head seemed swollen to 
twice its natural size. The blow I got to-night was 
nothing compared to it. But after awhile I managed 
to sit up, and a few minutes later the rest of the 
party came along. I learned then that the other 
moose had escaped, though the old fellow who had 
given me such a ride lay dead a short distance away. 
My thrust had proved fatal, though it had not been 
dealt quick enough to save me that blow from the 
trees. Still, the fact that I had really bagged my 
game, while none of the rest had been successful in 
even getting one of the cows, did much toward 
mending my hurt, and in half an hour I was helping 
in the work of taking off the moose's skin. He was 


226 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


one of the biggest moose I ever saw, and his antlers 
were the envy of the entire party. With the loss of 
their leader, the herd fell easy victims to us, so that 
we went home loaded with meat.'' 

Here come Rob and the Woodranger," declared 
Alex. 


CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE ARM OF GOLD. 

The Woodranger and Rob reported that, about 
a mile below, the river again became passable for a 
canoe, and it was the belief of the party that no 
further rapids would be found. Jean had so far 
recovered from his accident that he was able to 
assist in carrying Mr. Briant, and a few minutes 
later the entire party was moving silently down 
through the deep woods, whose dim forest aisles had 
perhaps never before been entered by a white man. 
Little Mab kept close to her mother, while it was not 
thought prudent for any of the party to get separated 
from the others, as wild beasts were liable to be met 
at any time, while it was not improbable that Indians 
might be prowling in that vicinity. 

The portage, however, was made without adven- 
ture or mishap, and when the Woodranger had seen 
the Briant family safely in the canoe, with Jean 
Vallie and Alex at the paddles, he looked first down 
the stream, and then longingly away into the track- 
less forest stretching away to the eastward. 

* 227 


228 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘‘ Mebbe there is no fitter place for our trails to 
fork than here/' he said, slowly, seeing it must come 
sooner or later. I opine you'll make your jarney in 
goodish shape. Rob and I will perambulate down 
to Main-a-Dieu ; " and before the others could reply 
his tall form was vanishing in the darkness of the 
forest. 

Before Rob could follow his friend, Briant called 
him to his side, and, clasping his hand, said : 

May you be successful in getting to Main-a-Dieu, 
and if we never meet again I want you to take with 
you my blessing. I am sorry the Woodranger did 
not stop to hear my thanks. He seems like an odd 
sort of a man, but I know his heart is in the right 
place. You have both done me a great service, and 
I shall never forget it. I hope we shall meet again, 
and under more hopeful circumstances. Stay ; do not 
leave till you have heard what I wish to say. Your 
friend will stop for you before he goes very far. I 
can give you information that will be of value to you 
in this long trip to Main a-Dieu. You have nearly, if 
not quite, a hundred miles before you. I am very 
well acquainted with L'Isle Royale, and know your 
best route. 

After reaching St. George's Channel, which 
separates New Scotland from L'Isle Royale, you will 
do best to steer for that inland sea, Le Bras d'Or. 
Thence you had better go by water to the old French 


THE ARM OF GOLD. 


229 


road leading to St. Louisburg, leaving that road at 
Miray River if you think best. You can get a canoe 
with which to cross Le Bras d'Or of a friend of mine 
named James Bruce, if you tell him that I sent you. 
I need not warn you to be constantly on your guard, 
for you are too good a woodsman to need such advice. 
Your entire journey lies through the enemy’s coun- 
try, though there are a few Scotch and English 
people scattered over the island. I wish you God- 
speed.” 

As he finished speaking, the Acadian ranger 
pressed Rob’s hand with renewed fervour, and then 
released it, while the others, one by one, bade him 
farewell. Mrs. Briant murmured her thanks, and 
wished him and the Woodranger a safe journey, and 
Jean Vallie, honest fellow that he was, wrung our 
hero’s hand in silence. 

‘‘ I hope we shall meet again,” said Alex, a simple 
wish vrhich was to be answered in future years, but 
under circumstances of which neither of them then 
dreamed. A minute later the heavily loaded canoe 
was gliding rapidly down the current of the St. Mary’s 
while Rob was hastening in the footsteps of the 
Woodranger. 

You tarried with ’em,” said the latter, as he 
overtook him a few rods from the river. Didst 
the Acadian let drop a hint or inkling o’ the best 
trail leading to Main-^-Dieu ? ” 


230 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


‘‘He did, Woodranger,’’ and, as they moved on 
their way, he repeated what Briant had said. 

“That be discreet talk, lad,” declared the Wood- 
ranger, as Rob concluded, “ and I can see a vein o’ 
wisdom running through it like a bar o’ moonlight on 
a night in the black woods. I will ne’er dissemble, 
lad, o’er the fact that it does these ol’ legs good to 
get on foot ag’in. This perambulating by the birch 
be convanient at times. I’ll ne’er previcate ; but if 
I’m always glad to take to the canoe, when there be 
personal p’ints in the case. I’m always jess as glad to 
get back on ’arth ag’in. Arter all, there’s nothing 
for a long perambulation like a pair o’ good legs, and 
no man can have good legs onless he makes ’em ’arn 
their sinews. Nay, lad, the best legs in the woods 
would ne’er have the sinews o’ a pine stick if they 
were always curled up in a blanket like a worm in the 
hot sand. But hear my ol’ tongue running like a 
brook in the spring-time, when we have so much that 
is ’arnest work ahead.” 

With these words the Woodranger relapsed into 
silence, and he and Rob kept on mile after mile with 
steps that showed no signs of weariness. Soon after 
leaving their companions they reached the road, little 
more than a bridle-path then, running parallel with 
the St. Mary’s. Following this until morning, they 
came to the road from Sherbrooke to Pictou, which 
was an oft-travelled route between Chebucto and the 


THE ARM OF GOLD, 


231 


latter town, situated on the bay by the same name. 
It was common saying in those days that ‘‘ all roads 
led to Pictou,’’ which showed the importance of that 
settlement. 

Advancing carefully, they soon crossed the east 
branch of the St. Mary's, and, leaving the main road 
to Pictou, moved along the path to Chebucto Bay. 
In the deep woods of that region, having seen no 
signs of an enemy, the two ventured to stop, and, 
shooting some birds, built a fire and cooked the meat, 
which they ate with some of the barley bread that 
they still carried in their pouches. When they had 
eaten their plain dinner, the Woodranger stretched 
himself at full length upon the ground under the 
cover of the forest, and was soon asleep. Rob knew 
how much his companion needed this rest, and as he 
had fared somewhat better, he remained awake to 
keep watch. 

Though they saw no signs of the enemy, French 
or Indian, they were in a country whose rivers had 
often run red with the blood of innocent victims slain 
by the Micmacs in their raids against the settlements 
of the adventurous whites who had sought to build 
them homes here. Many of these cruel attacks, it 
is true, had taken place before New Scotland, or 
L'Acadie, as it was then called, had passed under 
British dominion. But, losing this part of their 
domains, the French had immediately strengthened 


232 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


their position in the island of Cape Breton/ or Ulsle 
Royale, as they prefered to know it. This was in 
such close proximity to the region about Chebucto 
Bay, which was the great resort of the fishing-vessels 
of New England, passing to and from the fishing- 
grounds of the St. Lawrence, that it remained to a 
great extent the battle-ground of the races. 

The Woodranger slept two hours, with the peace- 
fulness of a child, when he awoke greatly refreshed, 
and declared that they must resume their perilous 
march. It was not the nature of the woodsman to 
inquire into the reasons of a companion for doing or 
not doing a certain work, and he did not ask if Rob 
had slept well, or if he had slept at all. He really 
knew that he hadn't, but in his heart he was none 
the less grateful for the sacrifice of his friend. In 
the end Rob knew he would not lose by it. 

While it might be interesting to follow the journey 
of Rob and the Woodranger in its details, I must 
refrain from doing so. At Manchester, situated near 
the mouth of an inlet of Chebucto Bay, they were 
fortunate enough to run across a man from New 
England who gladly took them down the bay and up 
the channel, then known to the French as Le Pas- 

* So named by its first settlers, who had come from Bretaigne, 
France, in the early part of the sixteenth century, in honour of their 
homeland, and first applied to one of the points of land. It is 
thought to be the oldest French name on the American continent. 


THE ARM OF GOLD, 


233 


sage Frontenac/' and to the English as the ‘‘Gut of 
Canseau/’ The last name has survived the other, 
and the stormy strait of about forty miles in length 
and an average of a mile in width is known to-day by 
that designation. 

At a town called Caribacau their new friend was 
obliged to leave them, and turn back toward his 
home. The Woodranger and Rob were in LTsle 
Royale,‘ whose greatest length was one hundred and 
fifty miles, and whose greatest width was eighty 
miles. Its population consisted of from three to 
four hundred Indians, some descendants of the 
original Bretons, mostly fishermen, a sprinkling of 
Irish farmers, French Acadians, some Scots, and a 
few English. 

The Woodranger and Rob had thought it best to 
follow the main road leading east, and touching first 
at the west shore of Le Bras d’Or, and thence along 
its southern shore to Sydney, the capital of the island, 
situated on a harbour by that name. Their wish 
was to find James Bruce, recommended by Briant, 
and from whom they hoped to get a canoe, in order 
to save time and distance by traversing the inland 
sea just mentioned, and which was fifty miles long. 

It was after sunset when they left the Gut of 
Canseau, so that it was nearly midnight when they 
caught sight of the silver gleam of water through the 
* Cape Breton became a county of Nova Scotia in 1820. 


234 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


tree-tops ahead, and realised that at last they had 
reached that oft-mentioned Le Bras d’Or, whose poet- 
ical name signifies in English ‘‘The Arm of Gold/’ 

“ I ne’er consider it a wanton pleasure to look on 
yon sheet o’ water, arter the goodish perambulation 
we’ve taken to find it. It be a fair pool, which the 
moonlight gives a charm not — Look yon, lad ! If 
there be not a sight more to our consarn than this 
bit o’ water, I ne’er’ll trust these ol’ eyes ag’in.” 

They had paused near the edge of the forest over- 
hanging the shore of the lake, and, as their keen 
visions swept the expanse of water, both saw at the 
same moment a little fleet of canoes dart out from 
the shadows on the northern shore and steer toward 
the south. Four of these light barques were to be 
counted, and each held as many as six occupants. 

The sight was sufficient to hold them close watch- 
ers, while the little fleet continued to draw nearer. 

The moon was high enough in the sky for them to 
see the party quite plainly a minute after the Wood- 
ranger had finished his speech, and the discovery that 
they made was explained by the whispered words of 
Rob: 

“ Injuns on the war-path ! ” 

“Aye, Injuns and painted French,” replied the 
forester. “ Which be the worst heathen it be not 
for me to say. Think you they are going to land, 
lad ? ” 


THE ARM OF GOLD. 


235 


“ Looks like it, Woodranger. Yes, see ! they are 
putting in toward yonder cove. Can this be the 
Main-a-Dieu band ? 

‘^Not the Grand Prd herd, though it do look so 
they've come a goodish way. Mebbe they're to 
meet others here, and then go on to Main-a-Dieu. 
If sich be the fact, which I'm discreet to say is only 
an ol' man's whim, there be a bit o' an amazement 
for us to hearken into." 


CHAPTER XXIV. 


AN AMAZEMENT '' FOR FOUR. 

** Let's get down nearer to where they're going to 
land," whispered Rob, ^‘and perhaps we can get a 
fair look at them. I believe I can see captives among 
them." 

They acted upon Rob's suggestion, and began to 
advance cautiously toward that point in the growth 
which promised to become the landing-place of the 
canoe party. As the shore of Le Bras d’Or was 
set with a thick fringe of water-bushes and vines, 
there was little danger of the scouts being detected 
by the allied forces, if they acted with their cus- 
tomary caution. A medley of cries and outbreaks of 
merriment soon reached the ears of the Woodranger 
and Rob, which caused the former to say, in a low 
tone : 

‘‘ I jedge they be in good spirits, which says that 
they have been successful in whatever they went 
arter. They be putting in for the land. I opine 
there be a French settlement hereabouts, and they be 
bent on a stop here to loose sich jubilations as have 
236 


AN AMAZEMENT^^ FOR FOUR, 


237 


risen from their wanton destruction o’ human life 
and property.” 

So well did the speaker and his companion manage 
their stealthy approach that, when the foremost canoe 
was running into the shallow water of the sandy 
beach, they were already lying in the matted bushes 
less than four rods away. Without dreaming of the 
watchers, so near by that they saw every move made 
by them, the leaders of the war-party sprang out into 
the water, and pulled their boat after them, until it 
rested on the sand. Though three of this division 
of the band wore the feathered plumes of the Mic- 
macs, both the Woodranger and Rob knew they 
were white men in the disguise of Indians. 

The second canoe was filled with Indians, which 
fact, as well as the bloody nature of their enterprise, 
was attested to by a couple of scalp-locks hanging 
from the girdles of two of them. This sight set the 
warm blood of Rob Rogers coursing swiftly through 
his veins, and he seized on the arm of his companion 
with a grasp which betrayed his deep emotion. In 
reply, the Woodranger laid his hand on that of his 
young and more fiery companion, whispering, as he 
pointed with his other hand toward the third canoe : 

If we be not in season to succour some, we be in 
time to join in the amazement o’ others.” 

Rob now saw two captives in this boat, whose 
crew was about equally divided between French and 


238 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


Indians. Behind this war-canoe came the fourth and 
last one, carrying four Micmacs. He counted twenty 
in the party besides the two captives. One of these 
was a boy of about twelve years, but the other was not 
seen plain enough to tell if he were older or younger. 

The landing of the entire party, which was quickly 
effected, was watched with keen interest by the 
Woodranger and Rob. A short consultation then 
followed, after which the officer in charge of the 
allied forces led the way up from the water’s edge, 
followed by all but two of his squad, who remained 
on guard over the captives and the canoes. The 
path pursued by the war-party ran within four yards 
of the concealed scouts, so that they not only wit- 
nessed every movement plainly, but overheard all that 
was said. From the fragments of conversation car- 
ried on they understood that the party had just 
returned from a raid on an English settlement in the 
North District, which had not been as successful as 
they had anticipated. They were now expecting 
another party to join them in an expedition up Le 
Bras d’Or, which the Woodranger and Rob quickly 
concluded to mean against Main-a-Dieu. 

With what interest they watched the departure of 
the enemy on a five minutes’ visit to the settlement 
at the upper edge of the forest may be imagined. 
The moment they were beyond hearing, though not 
yet out of sight, the Woodranger said : 


AN AMAZEMENT'^ FOR FOUR. 


239 


What do you think o’ that, lad ? Be there an 
amazement for us ? ” 

The couple left on guard at the water’s edge, both 
of whom were evidently French, were marching 
slowly back and forth with their weapons ready for 
instant use. 

Isn’t there some way we can capture those fel- 
lows } ” asked Rob, replying in a whisper. ‘‘ One of 
those canoes is just what we need to get across the 
lake in.” 

“That be a fact, lad. But there be a personal 
p’int in the matter. It’d be a wanton waste o’ cau- 
tion for us to shoot the varmints. Not that I ’low 
they’re any too good for a lead physic. ’Em as con- 
sorts with the painted heathens, who exult in the 
slaying o’ innercent lives, desarve the treatment 
belonging to sich. Nay, lad, the use o’ the gun 
be ’yon ’ consideration, ’cept it be the last knot in 
the string. Still, I’m sot on having one o’ ’em 
canoes.” 

“ I am with you, Woodranger. Nothing would suit 
me better than to make off with one of them, and 
leave the others so they couldn’t be used to follow 
us.” 

“ I swan, lad, that be my own mind, let it be dis- 
cretionary or not. I have a hankering that way, I 
do. If I sh’d crawl forward, so as to get behind 
them, you might get their ’tention fixed this way. 


240 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Mebbe it could be done, lad. I opine it could with 
proper discretion. 

Rob agreed with his companion, and, knowing the 
short time in which they had to act, the idea was 
accepted without hesitation. The men on the beach, 
like a couple of sentinels, were slowly marching back 
and forth, but at no time did both of them turn the 
same way, so that nothing within their range of vis- 
ion could escape their watchfulness. The main body 
had now disappeared in the growth above, and the 
Woodranger, without longer delay, began to advance 
across the path they had so recently followed, leav- 
ing Rob to watch and wait for the proper time to act 
himself. 

In one respect the Woodranger was favoured, as 
the border of thick bushes continued for a long dis- 
tance along the shore of the lake. On the other 
hand, the beach was fifty feet or more in width, and 
in the clear moonlight it seemed impossible for him 
to get very near the wary couple without being dis- 
covered by them. 

Minute after minute passed, and the only sound 
that broke the silence of the midnight hour was the 
ceaseless lapping of the water. Rob was beginning 
to look for the return of the war-party, while he 
listened in vain for the Woodranger’s signal. It did 
not need this to tell him that his friend was moving 
with all the speed consistent with safety, but he 


AN AMAZEMENT^' FOR FOUR, 


241 


began to fear there would not be time to carry out 
their plan. The unsuspecting sentinels showed that 
they were beginning to think it time for their com- 
panions to rejoin them, as a glance in that direction 
now and then showed. The moon shone clear from 
a cloudless sky, so that it was as light as day along 
the beach. It was only the boldest stratagem that 
could enable them to succeed. 

In the midst of these thoughts the Woodranger’s 
signal aroused Rob from his tiresome inactivity. In 
a moment he was ready to carry out his part of the 
work, and his first move was to make a slight noise 
by shaking the bushes just ahead of him. As slight 
as the movement was, the sentinels instantly turned 
sharply in that direction, and a low exclamation of 
warning from one reached Rob’s ears. At that 
moment he discovered a figure leaving the growth 
just beyond the two men. It was the Woodranger. 

Rob followed up his first alarm by a low groan, 
apparently made by some one in great distress. 
Scarcely had he given this utterance before the fire- 
arms of the two sentries were brought to their 
shoulders, and the long weapons were level in that 
direction, while the foremost of the alarmed men 
cried out in a sharp voice : 

Dare to move at the peril of your life ! ’’ 

This was uttered in French, which Rob under- 
stood, and he replied with another groan, silently 


242 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


retreating the next moment. Thus the firearms of 
his enemies were pointed at the thicket a little ahead 
of him. While this was taking place the Wood- 
ranger began to swiftly approach the couple whose 
attention was fixed in front. But the forester was 
three or four rods distant from the nearest watch- 
man, and Rob knew that, unless he held the atten- 
tion of him and his companion in that direction, the 
chance of success without a hand-to-hand combat 
would be lost. But the men, through their fear and 
lack of caution, hastened the crisis, while they threw 
away their chance of escape. 

Advance into sight ! ” called out the spokesman, 
‘‘or we will fire on you where you are.'' 

Rob gave another groan, and again retreated a few 
feet. Without further warning, the two men fired 
simultaneously at the mysterious creature in the 
thicket. Ordinary prudence should have suggested 
to them that one shot would have been better, and 
one would thus have been prepared to meet whatever 
might follow. This mistake they learned when it 
was too late to remedy it. 

The Woodranger had already passed over half the 
distance to him whom he had selected for his first 
attack, and the reports of the firearms had not died 
away before his strong grasp was upon the man's 
throat with a force that effectually stopped his cry 
of alarm. 


AN AMAZEMENT^^ FOR FOUR, 


243 


Meanwhile, Rob had not been inactive. The 
weapons of the French soldiers had been single- 
barrelled guns, and the moment they had discharged 
the pieces he sprang from his covert, and, clubbing 
his own stout firearm, ran toward the other sentry. 
This man, frightened by his sudden appearance, in- 
stead of offering resistance, turned and flew toward 
the forest at the top of his speed. 

Knowing that shots would bring the absent squad 
back to the place, Rob ran to the assistance of the 
Woodranger. But all that was required of him was 
to find a piece of cord, which he did in one of the 
canoes. With this the soldier was quickly bound 
hand and foot. This had been barely accomplished 
before loud cries from the distance told that the 
others of the war-party had been aroused, and were 
coming to the scene. 

The heathens be coming ! '' exclaimed the Wood- 
ranger. It be discreet for us to get away from here 
as soon as may be. But it be discreet er for us to 
riffle their canoes.’’ 

Whipping out the long hunting-knife he carried, the 
forester ran to the nearest canoe, and a moment later 
it was placed beyond future usefulness. 

^‘This be wanton work,” soliloquised the destroyer, 
‘^but who scrimmages with heathens can ne’er be 
o’erparticular in his methods. If there be a saving 
blame it need stand for the poor captives.” 


244 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


With less regard for what he was doing, Rob 
scuttled the second canoe, and in less time than it 
has taken to describe it only one of the four canoes 
remained in a condition fit for use. This one con- 
tained the two captives, who had looked upon the 
preceding scene with considerable terror, unable to 
understand whether it was to work them good or ill. 
The Woodranger and Rob now pushed this out into 
the water, and sprang in as the war-party appeared 
at the edge of the forest. 

Seizing the paddles, the fugitives sent the light 
craft flying out over the water, as renewed yells from 
the enemy told that they had been discovered, and 
their intentions understood. If there were any doubts 
about this last, they were quickly undeceived by the 
volley which the next moment was sent after them. 
But the canoe was in rapid motion, and the marks- 
men fired with such haste that not a bullet took 
effect. It is true some of them whistled uncomfort- 
ably near, but they did not even receive a scratch, 
and, confident now of escape, they continued to ply 
the paddles with the efficacy which comes from long 
training. 

The soldiers rushed headlong to the shore, to find 
that they had been baffled in their pursuit. They 
expressed their rage in a furious yell, which was just 
as effective as the random shots they sent after the 
fugitives. Glancing back, our friends saw them danc- 


AN AMAZEMENT'^ FOR FOUR, 


245 


ing madly on the beach, and when their forms began 
to grow indistinct, they began to paddle with more 
deliberation, until finally the Woodranger said : 

I opine the creetur's’ll ne'er take the trouble to 
follow, seeing there be slight chance for ’em to do it 
without wetting their precious skins, and that’d take 
the paint off. I’ve heerd painted folks be afeerd o’ 
water. But who have we with us } ” 

It soon proved that the captives, who had remained 
silent through the exciting scenes just passed, were 
both young boys, the oldest not over twelve, and the 
other three or four years younger. Both showed 
signs of great grief, and now they looked upon their 
rescuers with tears in their eyes. 

‘‘Please, sir,” said the oldest, “I don’t know who 
you are, but I beg of you not to hurt brother or me.” 

“ Mebbe we be a bit rugged in our ways, but we 
be fri’nds,” declared the Woodranger. “If the red 
and painted inemy be looking for means to get o’er 
this goodish pool o’ water, there be leetle to worry 
you. It be no leetle amazement that you’ve seen, 
j edging by ’em strings, but I’ll soon set you free, as 
youth should be.” 

The boys were both bound hand and foot with 
ligatures of deer-thongs, which the Woodranger 
quickly cut away with his knife, while the captives 
showed their delight by expressions of thankfulness. 
It was soon learned that their names were Charles 


246 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

and James Hanaford. The first told the story of 
their captivity, which was that so often repeated on 
the frontier. The allied forces of French and Indi- 
ans had suddenly appeared at a small settlement of 
English and Irish settlers to the north of Le Bras 
d’Or, and the inhabitants were either put to death or 
driven from their homes. The boys did not think 
many had been killed, as an alarm had preceded the 
attack of the enemies, and the people had started to 
flee. This fact seemed borne out by the fact that 
the Woodranger and Rob had seen such a small 
number of scalps. The parents of the boys had 
been among the fugitives, and in the flight Charles 
and James had become separated from them, and 
had fallen into the hands of their captors. The hor- 
rors of that trip across Le Bras d'Or, expecting to 
meet a most terrible death, had worked upon them 
so that even now it was impossible for them to 
speak of it without bursting into tears. But the 
Woodranger spoke kindly to them, and they soon 
became calmer. 

^‘Your tale goes to show,’' he said, finally, “that 
the uprising o’ these varmints is general. But you 
are safe for the time, lads, and let us trust that your 
parents are having no greater amazement than wor- 
rying o’er you. We’ll get you home in proper shape 
in proper time. And while we push ahead we’ll set 
the stick with the current o’ our best jedgment.” 


CHAPTER XXV. 


THE WARRIOR PINE. 

‘‘ Now's me, lad, one can ne'er run away from his 
inemy by running away with his own strength. It 
be ag'in natur' to ply the paddle overlong, and it has 
been a goodish bit o' a pull since we left 'em red and 
painted heathens a-staring at our heels," and the for- 
ester laughed in his silent way, his bronzed counte- 
nance wreathed in smiles, though his lips uttered no 
sound. 

The rising sun was shooting long, golden arrows 
of light across Le Bras d'Or, as the Woodranger 
gave expression to the above speech, and he and 
Rob rested on their paddles, after having placed sev- 
eral miles of water between them and their outwitted 
enemies. They had followed quite closely to the 
southern shore of the inland sea, and now their 
canoe was soon carried by the tide near enough for 
them to obtain a good view of the forest, which 
extended farther than they could see. Flooded by 
the clear, chaste light of early morning, the primeval 
woods looked uncommonly beautiful. The '^virgin 
247 


248 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

forest'' pictured by the romancer is not found as 
often as it is described, the truth being that as a rule 
the original forest, with its mass of dying trees and 
decaying vegetables, its network of reeking vines 
and bowed saplings, was anything but a delight to 
him who tried to penetrate its fastness. But the 
tall, straight trunks of the pines forming this tract 
of growth stood far apart like rustic columns holding 
aloft a leafy canopy of deathless green. This beauty 
was enhanced by the park-like regularity of these 
ancient monarchs of the forest, that had stifled all 
undergrowth, and now formed almost perfect rows 
reaching farther than one could see. Rob, who had 
spent most of his youthful years in roaming the 
wildwoods, was quick to notice this, and he expressed 
his pleasure at the sight to his companion, than 
whom no one was better fitted to appreciate it. 

‘‘Alack, lad, so you minded the happy company, 
did you } I was thinking o' 'em as so many people, 
though not o' my own race. In my boyhood I re- 
member o' being tol' o' a race o' hardy people living 
in a cold country, and whose ancestors were great 
warriors and seamen. They were tall, stalwart men, 
who o'ermastered whomever they met, and they went 
fur from home, as fur as ol' New England, which 
they called Vineland. On 'count o' their daring and 
warlike natur's they were called vikings. I like to 
think o' the pine as the viking o' the forest. The 


THE WARRIOR PINE. 249 

pine may be a bit overbearing, and ne’er social to the 
other clans o’ the forest, but so was the viking. 

The red, who lived nearer to natur’ than the 
white man, held a very pretty conceit, which went on 
to say that the pines were the descendants o’ an 
Indian warrior. A long time ago, when the morning 
light had more o’ the rose, and the sunset lasted for 
hours, there dwelt a tribe of mighty reds afar in the 
northland. In ’em days the hunting-grounds were 
overrun with game, and no hunter e’er came back 
from the trail with nothing to show for his day’s 
perambulation. How the eye o’ the later-day red 
kindles as he pictures that golden era, afore a blight 
crept o’er the chase and a rival race with pale skin 
and weepons o’ war akin to the fire o’ the sky 
stepped in to break the charm. 

Among these red men was a warrior taller than 
any o’ his kin, and as proud as he was tall. What 
nettled his comrades most was the fact that he made 
no boast he could not keep, for it is not so much 
what one says as what he does that makes a bitter- 
ness o’ heart. There was no chase in which he did 
not lead, and in their raids ag’inst their inemies he 
always fetched home the most scalp-locks. 

The others stood this like true reds till he come 
to tech their hearts by trying to win from them the 
fairest maid in the lodgment. She was a princess, 
or something o’ the kind, and at first favoured 


250 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


another brave. Then she claimed that the big 
warrior had bewitched her, and that she feared him 
more than she loved him. In this strait the other 
lovers went to an ol' dealer in Indian wisdom. He 
tried his charms on the big warrior, but he failed in 
’em all. His excuse was that the forests loved and 
protected so great a hunter, and that he could do 
nothing with the tall warrior ’less he could be got 
into open kentry. In ’em days there was leetle open 
kentry, and as the tall trailer was ne’er known to find 
’em places where danger lurked to him, it looked so 
the shorter fellers had a big hunk to bite off. 

‘‘ By’m bye a big running match was planned, as I 
s’pect, to outwit the tall warrior. It was ’ranged so 
the running course lay with the eends on opposite 
sides o’ an opening, and the runners would have to 
cross the clearing or take a longer trail through the 
woods. 

‘‘If the tall chap see the trap laid for him, he 
didn’t act so, for he was detarmined to win the race, 
and he run, as the rest did, the short way. This 
give the ol’ root and harb diviner a chance to try his 
trick on the brave, and he bawled out that he be 
turned into a bush. But the warrior showed that he 
was not the sort o’ a red to be shifted into bush- 
wood, and where he stopped in the midst o’ his run 
riz a tree the like o’ which the red men had ne’er 
seen. It was a pine of mighty body, straight as a 


THE WARRIOR PINE, 


251 


gun-barrel, with a crest that held concourse with the 
clouds. The tall warrior had been cheated of his 
bride, but what he lost o’ the fleeting visions o’ a 
life that is like a leaf falling in the forest he gained 
in an age that bordered upon immortality. Many 
generations o’ the dusky hunters sped their ’arthly 
race, while the pine stood as a reminder o’ him who 
had led their ancestors in the chase. 

‘‘ And the pine became a favoured resort for many 
people. Many a red lover, ’tis said, plighted his vows 
under its protecting arms. Once a maid, fleeing from 
a lover whom she did not wish to wed, stood by the 
pine as she stopped to rest in her flight. Then, 
seeing her wooer coming, with her father guiding 
him in the pursuit, she cried out in despair, begging 
of the tree to help her in her sore strait. She had 
barely spoken her words, when she was frightened to 
hear a voice beside her say : 

‘‘ ‘ Be my wife, sweet maid, and you’ll have no more 
to fear.’ 

‘‘The voice seemed to come from the pine, but, 
unable to understand, she knew not what to say or do. 
Then the same soothing tone continued : 

“ ‘ It is I, the pine, speaking, fair maid. All these 
years have I stood here waiting for some one to 
speak to me that the spell over me might be broken. 
I’m blest that it is you who have spoken at last. Be 
mine and ours will be the happiest life on ’arth.’ 


252 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘'With her ill-favoured lover and father now clus 
to her, the maid had leetle time to consider the un- 
expected proposition, and, knowing that no fate could 
be worse than to marry the grizzled warrior whom 
her parent favoured, she did not hesitate to accept 
the offer o’ the tree. Then the pine seemed to clasp 
her in his arms, and her pursuers s’arched in vain 
for her. As time passed on without giving him any 
sort o’ an inkling o’ her end, her father mourned her 
as dead, and the gray-headed chief had to seek another 
bride. 

“Those who came after them see other pines 
growing up around the solitary monarch, until a 
forest o’ the noble trees kivered hillside and valley. 
Hunters crossing the sacred ground jess at sunset 
claimed to see a beautiful maid in company with a 
tall, handsome warrior under the tree, but that both 
vanished into the pine as they drew nearer. The 
reds to this day hold to the pretty conceit that the 
pines are descended from this couple o’ human 
beings. 

“ Now’s me, durst heed how near we are creeping 
in toward the shore, as if these very pines were 
drawing us like a magnet. It may be well for us to 
stand away a bit from the land, ne’er forgetting that 
we are in the inemy’s country. Mebbe my tale has 
been overlong to these lads with heavy hearts, but 
no sorrow is lightened by repining o’er it. So cheer 


THE WARRIOR PINE, 


253 


up, lads, the day be fair, the water clear, and the 
birch light. We shall make the oV French road in 
good time, and onc’t there, I see no other more 
proper trail for us to follow than for Rob and I to 
turn back to back. One o' us will see that you 
reach a haven o’ safety, where you can get an ink- 
ling o’ your kin, while the other goes on to Main-a- 
Dieu. How floats the stick with you, Rob ? ” 

I agree to any plan you have to offer. Wood- 
ranger. We should not do our duty if we failed 
now to warn the poor settlers of Main-a-Dieu. We 
have come too far to abandon them now.” 

<‘In all consistency your words be true. My 
heart would cry out ag’in leaving the children here 
in their sore strait, and one can carry the news to 
Main-a-Dieu. Which shall it be ” 

‘‘It makes no difference to me, Woodranger. I 
will do either.” 

“ Spoken jess like you, lad. Mebbe, as I have a 
leetle — mind you I say but a leetle — better ink- 
ling o’ the kentry, that I had better perambulate off 
with the children. I will set the canoe toward Little 
Bras d’Or, as soon as we have reached the French 
road running from the shore o’ this body o’ water 
straight as a bee-line to Fort St. Louisburg, where, 
I understand, this fleet o’ French warships now 
crossing the sea will first stop. 

“You’ll ne’er need the birch arter striking the 


254 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


kentry at the head o’ this lake, but I can best make 
my perambulation by water to the north settlements. 
You’d chide me for saying that the minnit your foot 
teches land you’re surrounded by the inemy, that 
you be in the heart o’ the inemy’ s kentry, for you’ve 
I’arned your lesson in natur’s book, and I know 
you’re to be counted on. One o’ us must get to 
Main-a-Dieu.” 

‘‘I will do it, Woodranger, if it costs me my life.” 

I know it, lad, I do. But, alack ! now’s me, as if 
our duty eended there, when there’s to be another 
knot tied in our string o’ amazements. Lad, I have 
another word to add.” 

“ I am listening, Woodranger. Remember there 
is nothing you can ask that I will not and cannot 
do.” 

To another, unacquainted with this couple, the 
last statement of Rob Rogers might have seemed 
like boasting. But his companion knew it simply 
expressed the determination of a heart that never 
failed, of a courage of conviction and a fertility of 
resource to surmount any obstacle that might ap- 
pear. Prompt to think and to act in all that he 
undertook, Robert Rogers was never daunted at any 
odds against him, and seldom, if ever, allowed defeat 
to come to him. 

I knew it, lad,” the Woodranger continued, in 
his simple, straightforward way. ‘‘I need not wind 


THE WARRIOR PINE, 


255 


back on the trail to remind you o' the situation in 
New England, and the duty that belongs to us to 
do. The innercent people must be ’roused to the 
danger o’ the sleep that lays on the white settle- 
ments. This must be done afore the war-whoop o’ 
the painted heathen ’wakes the homes o’ New Eng- 
land. But how I do double on the trail when the 
p’int be straight ahead. The skein I wish to unravel 
be this : When you’ve spread the news to Main-a- 
Dieu, do not begin to look round for me, but get 
back to New England as soon as may be. Mebbe 
Captain Vaughan would be as good a person as 
you could see first ; but see who you can as soon 
as may be. I claim no great knack at sich an 
amazement, but that seems to me the main p’int to 
reach.” 

‘‘You will do the same, Woodranger ” 

“ Sartin, lad, sartin, alwus reckoning that the leaf 
does not fall afore the frost strikes it.” 

The Woodranger had already resumed paddling, 
and Rob following his example, the canoe moved 
over the water at a rapid rate. Nothing further was 
said by them in regard to their future plans, but so 
well did they understand each other that there was 
scarcely any need of this. In the many years that 
they had passed together as scouts and hunters 
they were often obliged to separate, and it might be 
months before they would meet again. One singular 


256 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


fact connected with this long association was the 
prevailing custom of never fixing upon any date or 
place of meeting, and yet they seldom failed to 
come together at some logical point in their adven- 
tures. 


CHAPTER XXVI. 


ROB SAYS HE IS A GUNBEARER. 

Mention has been made of the French road 
running from the head of Le Bras d’Or to the 
settlement of Louisburg on the shore of the harbour 
by that name. Though this way, since denominated 
as the Old French Road,’’ has become noted from 
later associations, it was even then the most famous 
highway on the island. This was partly due to 
its having been a common Indian trail from the sea 
to the great lake, but chiefly to the fact of its being 
the principal route from the interior country to the 
'growing fortress of Louisburg. Upon ceding Nova 
Scotia to the British in 1713, the French, as has 
been said, began to strengthen themselves on Breton 
Island, and in 1720 Louisburg was founded as a 
military and naval station. Fortifications were im- 
mediately begun, which required twenty-five years to 
complete, at a cost of 30,000,000 livres, a prodigious 
sum for those days. At this time the works were 
practically completed, the fortress, with walls thirty 
257 


258 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


feet high and forty thick, being surrounded by a 
moat eighty feet wide. These extensive fortifica- 
tions, styled the ‘‘Gibraltar of America,*’ covered 
two and a half acres, and commanded one of the 
finest harbours on the coast, gained by an entrance 
half a mile in width. 

Knowing that he was penetrating into the very 
heart of the enemy’s country, Robert Rogers ad- 
vanced with more than ordinary caution along this 
oft-frequented highway. Twice the warning sounds 
of the hoof-strokes of horses driven at a headlong 
rate of speed caused him to seek concealment in the 
neighbouring thickets, and while thus secreted he 
saw a body of French soldiers pass at one time, 
while on the other occasion the party was led by a 
priest in his dark robes, with three Indians, who 
seemed to be a sort of body-guard for him. 

His narrow escape from meeting these parties, and 
the knowledge that he was likely to meet others on 
foot at any moment, showed our hero that, at his 
most convenient opportunity, he had better abandon 
the public road for the trackless forest. But this 
was the most direct route, as the Woodranger had 
described it, and he resolved to follow the road until 
he reached the River Miray, where he hoped to be 
fortunate enough to obtain a canoe. He was the 
more anxious to continue this course for the reason 
that it was necessary to pursue the nearest and 


ROB SAYS HE IS A GUNBEARER, 259 

easiest route in order to reach Main-a-Dieu in season 
to save the doomed inhabitants. 

The sun had gone down behind a bank of clouds 
on the west, and the pine forest was throwing its 
deep shadows across the old military road. Rob was 
beginning to wonder how much farther he must go 
before reaching the river, when a wild, piercing 
shriek rang on the air, which a moment before had 
borne an oppressive stillness. The cry was one of 
fear rather than pain, and the tone was that of a 
man. It was swiftly followed by a second, more 
prolonged, and then was heard the heavy tread of 
some one rushing furiously up the road. 

If Rob had thought of escaping a meeting with 
this stranger, he was given scanty time to conceal 
himself before the man came into sight. It was too 
dark to distinguish his features, but his white face 
showed uncommon terror, while his long hair was 
flying out behind his head. 

Quickly raising his gun, our hero ordered him to 
stop. The unexpected appearance of some one in 
his pathway, and the sight of the firearm with its sin- 
gle eye staring him in the face, following so swiftly 
on his previous cause for fright, gave the fugitive 
a shock that caused him to sink to the ground, 
moaning : 

‘‘ Howly mither ! it's dead an' kilt I am intoirely 
without so much es sayin' me prayahs." 


26 o 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


What is the trouble ? ” demanded Rob, who had 
hard work to keep from laughing at the man’s 
display of hopelessness. 

‘‘ Begorra ! it’s a dead man sp’akin’ to yees,” re- 
plied the other, whose nationality was betrayed by 
his speech. 

‘‘ Well, dead or alive, get up,” said Rob. 

Och, save me ! it’s spacheless I am in me limbs, 
or a liar’s Phin O’ Regan.” 

There seems to be life enough left in your 
tongue. I want to know what all this rumpus 
means ? ” 

Suah, an’ all th’ rumpus there be wuz made by 
a dead man, or I’m not who I wuz an’ he’s not me. 
Me head stood on me feet and me heart stopped its 
b’atin’ at the soight ! An’ afore I see’d y’it I wuz 
a di^en rods away.” 

Finding that Rob did not mean him harm, the 
Irishman began to collect his scattered wits, and, by 
the time he had finished his sentence, he had risen 
to his knees. His face was still pale, and his teeth 
fairly chattered as he uttered his incoherent speech. 

I see no cause for alarm,” declared Rob. 

‘^That’s cos you ain’t see’d what I see’d. There’s 
a dead man hangin’ down in that buildin’ alive, or 
Phin O’Regan’s eyes air doomb ! ” 

He had now risen to his feet, and, catching upon 
Rob’s arm, was pointing down the road from the 


ROB SAYS HE IS A GUNBEARER, 


261 


direction whence he had just come. No unusual 
sight met the gaze of Rob, but, determined to solve 
the cause of the Irishman’s fright, he said : 

‘‘ Come with me and show me what you mean.” 

<^Not while Phin O’Regan knows hisself,” but as 
Rob started down the road he followed him, keeping 
close to the young ranger. A turn in the road a 
couple of rods below suddenly brought them in sight 
of an old block-house or garrison standing in an open- 
ing in the forest. It bore a deserted appearance, and 
as the two stopped, the only sound falling on their 
hearing was the sharp chirrup of some insect lurking 
in the grass by the wayside. The building was a 
two-storied structure built of logs, with two openings 
in the end toward them, which had evidently served 
the purpose of a window for each story. There were 
several loopholes to be seen in the wall. On the 
side which confronted the road was an open door- 
way. 

‘‘ Tell me what you saw there,” said Rob, shaking 
the Irishman vigorously. “ I am going to know at 
once what all this fooling means. Spit it out, or it 
will be the worse for you.” 

I ain’t done any hurt,” sputtered the Irishman. 
‘^I wuz a-roadin’ along the walk, when that buildin’ 
wint fbrninst into me, an’ I looked an’ I see a did man 
a-hangin’ by a rope frum th’ roofters. Be me soul 
in purgatory, this is th’ thruth, hull and nothin’ — ” 


262 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


‘‘ Why didn't you say so before ? " broke in Rob, 
who felt that he was losing far too much time over a 
matter that did not concern him. But the man's 
words had given him to understand that some one 
had been foully dealt with, and without longer delay 
he resolved to solve the mystery. Regardless of the 
fact that some trap might be laid for him, a condi- 
tion which did not seem at all probable to him, he 
started toward the lonely block-house, Phin O’Regan 
calling him back. 

‘‘Not fer me sowl w'u'd I enter there at all, at 
all." Perhaps, however, he was afraid to remain 
alone, for he followed upon the heels of Rob, who 
boldly entered the old garrison. It was too dark 
within for him to discover any object at first, but 
upon glancing up toward the second story, he saw, 
dangling in the starlight that struggled in through 
the opening in the wall, a human form. It was a 
man's figure, and he was evidently suspended from 
the roof overhead. 

He did not wonder so much at the terror of the 
Irishman, who was now cowering behind him, for the 
uncanny sight at first sent a chill through his frame. 
But quickly recovering his usual command over him- 
self, Rob stepped forward under the aperture which 
led to the upper floor, when he got a better view 
of the drooping figure. Now that he had got nearer, 
he had discovered an unnaturalness about the form 


ROB SAYS HE IS A GUNBEARER. 263 

which caused him to laugh, while Phin O' Regan con- 
tinued to mutter over his exclamations of terror. 

Several small sticks, fastened upon the wall one 
above another, formed a sort of rude ladder by which 
to reach the second story, and without further hesita- 
tion Rob ascended, hand over hand. At the top he 
was convinced of what he had felt confident when on 
the floor below. The limp figure was nothing more 
than the dummy of a man, that had been made up 
and left hanging there. The clothes were those of 
a British officer, and, though Rob had no reason for 
knowing then, he afterward learned that it was the 
effigy of the English governor of New Scotland, 
whom some of his enemies had thus treated as an 
expression of their hatred for him. 

Rob quickly cut the rope holding the figure, and 
the object fell at his feet. He was about to push it 
down the opening to the lower floor when the sound 
of hoof-strokes suddenly fell on his ears, and a cry of 
alarm rang from Phin O' Regan. This was succeeded 
by a gunshot, and a medley of cries rang out, while 
a body of horsemen halted at the door. It was a 
critical situation for Rob, who anticipated meeting 
none but enemies in that vicinity. 

A moment later the room below was thronged with 
men, whom he quickly judged to be French soldiers. 
If he had any doubts of this they were dispelled by 
the stern command of their leader, who exclaimed : 


264 the young gunbearer. 

‘‘ Who are you, stranger, who dares to be prowling 
round here ? '' 

This was spoken in French, and not believing that 
the speaker had really seen him, Rob’s first thought 
was to remain silent. He had heard the heavy steps 
of Phin O’ Regan in his flight, and believed some of 
the horsemen had gone in pursuit of the Irishman. 
Just how many of the squad were about the old 
garrison he had no way of telling, but he judged 
there were not less than half a dozen. But it seemed 
more prudent for him to answer, and he believed that 
some way of escape would open to him. He had 
been among the French of Canada and had picked 
up a smattering of their tongue, so he replied to the 
challenge of the officer, who was showing his impa- 
tience by beginning to approach the side of the 
building under the rude stairway : 
friend.” 

‘‘ Where from } ” 

‘‘The Subenacadie.” 

“A Neutral.?” 

This question was more difficult to answer, but 
Rob resolved to put on a bold front, and said : 

“ No.” 

“ What are you then ? ” 

Rob did not fail to detect the eagerness with 
which this question was asked, and he was confident 
that so far he had passed a satisfactory examination. 


ROB SAYS HE IS A GUNBEARER. 265 

If not a Neutral, whom the French despised, he must 
either avow himself a friend of the English or pro- 
claim himself what he was in a certain respect, 
though not just as he would have the other infer. 
He replied without hesitation and with apparent 
frankness : 

‘‘ A Gunbearer ! ’’ 

‘‘Good!’' exclaimed the man below. “In that 
case you need not hesitate to join us. If you have 
come from the Subenacadie, you must be able to 
give us some word of the expedition to Main-a-Dieu. 
There is an air of silence about the whole affair which 
makes me distrust its leaders. Come down here at 


once. 


CHAPTER XXVII. 

HOW ROB CARRIED THE NEWS TO MAIN - X - DIEU. 

During this brief conversation Rob had glanced 
about him, with the hope of seeing some way of 
escape, for he had no real intention of placing him- 
self willingly in the power of the man below him. 
He had no reason to believe he could deceive him 
long, once he appeared before him. While it might 
answer a very good purpose, as far as a delay in 
action was concerned, to claim to be a Gunbearer, 
yet, as soon as he should dare to show himself among 
the soldiers, they would quickly discover that he did 
not belong to their side. To fall into their hands 
meant the fate of a spy to him. 

Before he had replied to the last query his plan of 
action had formed itself in his mind, and, as the com- 
mand of the officer was spoken, he pushed the effigy 
at his feet out into the opening, so that the feet and 
ankles hung over the other's head and could be 
plainly seen in spite of the darkness of the building. 
As the body did not immediately follow the lower 
266 


HOW ROB CARRIED THE NEWS. 26 / 

limbs, and these remained motionless, the commander 
demanded : 

Why don't you come along ? We can't fool here 
with you all night." 

Upon receiving no reply, and finding that the figure 
still remained motionless, he repeated his question, 
adding this time that he would give him just one 
minute in which to come down, or he would order a 
volley of shot to be poured into him. Still the feet 
hung there motionless, and finally the exasperated 
officer ordered that three of his party fire at the per- 
son above them. In a moment three reports, ring- 
ing out as one, filled the building with the sharp 
sound, while the bullets of the marksmen whistled 
into the opening overhead. One of the feet was 
seen to swing back and forth for a moment, and then 
it again became still. Not a sound had preceded or 
followed the volley. 

Thoroughly mystified over the affair, the officer 
ordered two of his men to ascend to the second story 
while the rest kept a watch over the place, with 
the command to fire at the least movement of the 
mysterious person in concealment. At that moment 
an alarm came from outside the building, and confu- 
sion and excitement followed. 

In the meantime, Robert Rogers had carried into 
effect his daring plan of escape. After pushing the 
effigy over the edge of the opening overhanging the 


268 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


lower story, he had sped with light steps toward 
the opposite end of the building, where there was 
another window. The second demand of the officer 
reached his ears, as he let himself out through the 
opening, and swung himself down toward the ground. 
The descent was not over twelve feet, and he dropped 
to the earth uninjured. 

He had expected to continue his flight on foot, 
hoping to escape under cover of the darkness of the 
forest, but he now made a discovery which afforded 
him a thrill of pleasure. The soldiers had left their 
horses under charge of a couple of orderlies at the 
corner of the old garrison house. So, with his cus- 
tomary rapidity and daring, Rob stepped to the 
nearest animal, quietly took the rein from the hand 
of the soldier, and vaulted into the saddle. 

So quickly and unexpectedly was this done that the 
orderly stood gazing after the retreating horseman 
until he had ridden out of sight, before he realised 
what had taken place. Even then he was in doubt 
as to whether it had been a friend or enemy who had 
mounted the horse before his very eyes and dashed 
furiously down the road. His companion, not he, 
gave the alarm, and, amid the confusing exclamations 
and attempts to place the blame, the fugitive must 
have been nearly two miles away before a pursuit 
was undertaken. 

Rob soon found that he was riding a good horse, 


HOW ROB CARRIED THE HEWS. 269 

and as he flew along the road toward Louisburg he 
was in a very pleasant state of mind. 

‘^With this horse I shall soon be able to reach 
Main-a-Dieu/' he thought, ‘^and so a good result 
will come of my adventure. I wonder what has 
become of poor Phin. He was the worst specimen 
of a scared Irishman I ever ran across. I don't 
know whether to blame him or thank him for that 
little ^amazement,' as the Woodranger would call it. 
He always said I had great ability to run into 
trouble, and I am not sure but he is right. Helloa ! 
I wonder which way I had better go." 

He had crossed the River Miray soon after leaving 
the old garrison, and now he had come to a byway 
turning off from the Louisburg road on his left. 

Main-^-Dieu must be to the east," he thought. 

It will not do for me to keep on much nearer Louis- 
burg. Ay, I am going to risk it. If this path 
comes to an end in the woods, I will leave the horse 
and push ahead on foot." Soon after he had entered 
this unfrequented pathway, the troopers dashed past 
the fork in the ways at a swinging pace, thinking the 
fugitive was still riding toward Louisburg. 

The hoof strokes of his horse being muffled by 
the loose earth of the path, Rob urged the animal 
ahead as fast as the condition of the route would per- 
mit. His fear that the way might prove nothing 
more than a bridle-path leading into the woods gradu- 


2/0 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


ally left him, as he kept on mile after mile without 
seeing any sign of this being the case. Finally, when 
the moon was visible for a short time on the eastern 
horizon, and then disappeared behind the clouds that 
had now enveloped the entire sky, he suddenly found 
himself upon another highway. He saw that it had 
the appearance of being much travelled, so he became 
more cautious in his advance. It was really the road 
from Louisburg to Sydney, the capital of Breton 
Island. 

For the second time Rob felt some hesitation about 
the proper course for him to pursue. He was confi- 
dent that Louisburg was some miles to his right, and 
that the general direction of his destination lay ahead. 
But this route led through a dense wilderness, where 
it would be impossible for a horse to penetrate, and 
exceedingly slow for a man to force his way. A road 
had been described as branching from the Sydney 
route near the right bank of the Miray River. This 
stream was to his left, and ran to his north, as he 
faced the east. Having come to this conclusion, he 
quickly decided upon his course. 

Wheeling his horse about, he headed him up the 
Sydney road, and never slackened his speed until the 
long bridge spanning the broad Miray was in sight. 
He had seen a little cluster of farmhouses on the road 
at one place, and just beyond this had passed three 
foot -travellers. He was hailed by one of these, and 



“THE OCCUPANT OF THE DWELLING . . . SOON APPEARED 

AT THE DOOR/^ 


',.,1 

j 

i 

i 

J 



HOW ROB CARRIED THE HEWS. 


271 


he heard dire threats hurled after him, as he sped on. 
Beyond these incidents nothing had occurred to awaken 
his suspicion. He now turned to the right, following 
the road to Main-a-Dieu, and entered on the last stage 
of his journey. 

■ The night hung over the little fishing hamlet of 
Main-a-Dieu with dark threatenings of rain, as Rob 
Rogers rode along its single street. No one was 
astir, and only one faint light glimmered like a feeble 
star in the darkness. With a feeling of rejoicing 
that his tremendous journey — one of the most re- 
markable made in the history of the colonies — was 
completed in time, he urged his now weary horse 
toward this place. A minute later he was calling to 
the occupant of the dwelling, who soon appeared at 
the door, candle in hand. The flickering blaze was 
quickly extinguished by the sea-breeze, and standing 
in darkness, wondering to whom he was speaking, the 
man inquired what this midnight summons meant. 

First inquiring if this was the settlement he wished 
to reach, Rob then explained the peril menacing the 
town, while the other listened with horror. 

My wife is sick,” he said. ‘‘ What can we do } 
Are you sure they will come to-night } ” 

‘^They are due at this hour,’’ replied Rob. ‘^A 
friend and I have come from Grand Pre to warn you. 
Stir yourself, sir, if you value your life.” 

‘‘ My wife is very sick, and — ” 


2/2 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


Rob did not stop to hear any more, but, leaving 
the man standing in the doorway peering after him, 
he rode on to the next house. Here he was success- 
ful in making the inmates understand the peril hang- 
ing over them and the necessity of immediate action. 

‘‘Your news does not surprise me very much,'' 
said one of them, “for I have felt that the French 
were planning an .uprising. It is not safe for a New 
England man to remain here. By Jove! I have hit 
upon a plan, and I believe it is the best thing we can 
do. There is a fishing- vessel just above here that put 
in this afternoon from the Banks. It is bound to 
Boston, and the best thing we can do is to take pas- 
sage in her to New England. I, for one, have little 
to keep me here, and we are all sure to lose our 
homes sooner or later." 

Rob agreed with this man, and inside of ten min- 
utes the others of the settlement had been aroused, 
and the situation explained to them. The majority 
quickly consented to the flight, believing it was inev- 
itable. The rest, finding their companions were in 
earnest, accepted the scheme so far, at least, as seek- 
ing safety on board of the ship until the affair should 
be over. 

Boats were readily found, a messenger sent to the 
ship, while preparations were made for the wholesale 
removal. There was something wild and strange in 
this midnight flight, and the feelings of the fugitives 


HOW ROB CARRIED THE NEWS. 


273 


were those of sadness at leaving their homes in this 
manner, and of hatred toward their enemies. The 
ship’s commander lent such assistance as he and his 
crew could, so that inside of an hour from the time 
Robert Rogers had ridden into Main-a-Dieu every 
house occupied by an English settler was empty. 
This was done with a quietness that did not awaken 
the French portion of the population to what was 
taking place. 

Mindful of his promise to the Woodranger, Rob 
had decided to accompany the rest on this voyage to 
New England, that he might carry the news of the 
plans of the French government to depopulate the 
country of the English. When the last boat load 
was moving down the harbour, and no sign of the 
allied raiders had yet been seen, there were those 
among the fugitives who began to think their step 
had been taken too hastily, and that the young stran- 
ger had brought them false news. But Rob was not 
long under suspicion, for so narrow was the escape 
that the vessel had not been reached before the war- 
cry of the enemies was heard. Then, as the ship 
stood boldly down the harbour, the anxious watchers 
saw a sheet of fire shoot into the dark space of 
night. This was quickly followed by others, until 
every English home in Main-a-Dieu was wrapped in 
flames. With what mingled sensations the fugitives 
witnessed this stirring spectacle may be imagined, 


274 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


knowing how narrowly they had saved their lives 
through the timely warning of the boy ranger, who 
stood slightly apart from the others, wondering, as 
he saw the fires leap up at the different places, where 
his friend, the Woodranger, was at that moment, and 
wishing that he was with him. 


CHAPTER XXVIII. 


THE LOUISBURG EXPEDITION. 

Zounds, man ! was it you speaking or myself ? 
The words were in my thoughts, but they seemed to 
slip from your tongue.’' The speaker, turning sharply 
about with his usual brusque manner, began to pace 
the floor excitedly. He was none other than Captain 
William Vaughan, in whose interest Rob Rogers 
and the Woodranger had gone to Acadia, as has 
been described. He was a son of Lieut. -Governor 
Vaughan, and was at that time actively engaged in 
founding a settlement at Damariscotta, now Noble- 
boro, Maine. He was also concerned in the fisheries 
off the Banks, so it will be seen that he was prom- 
inent in the affairs of the day. Moreover, he was 
a man of ready judgment, strong convictions, and 
swift and determined in his action. 

His speech was directed to our old friend, the 
Woodranger, whom last we saw in the company of 
the two Hanaford boys, taking them to a place of 
safety. In that he was entirely successful, and, after 
seeing them safe in the arms of their overjoyed par- 
275 


276 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

ents, he took passage on a ship that happened to be 
in a near-by port, and had thus been able to reach 
this little frontier post of Captain Vaughan’s in the 
early part of September. He had not seen or 
heard anything of Rob, except to learn that the 
inhabitants of Main-a-Dieu had taken flight for New 
England. He had believed that Rob would join 
them, and thus he had sought Captain Vaughan 
with all the promptness possible to report the result 
of the visit of himself and Rob Rogers to New 
Scotland. 

Captain Vaughan listened with surprise to the for- 
ester’s story, often interrupting him with questions 
and ejaculations. Still, he was not greatly shocked 
over the opening of hostilities by the French, until 
the Woodranger had come to tell of the proposed 
scheme to capture the whole of New England and 
New York. Upon hearing this, he rose to his feet, 
and began to pace the floor, smiting his hands to- 
gether and uttering strong exclamations. 

‘‘Now’s me,” declared the Woodranger, without 
heeding the increasing excitement of his companion, 
“there be ne’er so discreet a jedge as him who 
speaks from personal p’ints. It be true I was inside 
o’ the works o’ Louisburg onc’t, but that was some 
time since, and the ’fair was that backward in being 
built that it may have changed much since, so my 
knack at reading sign be not parfect. But the 


THE LOUISBURG EXPEDITION. 2/7 

stream that runs straight is easy to follow, and it be 
a straight p’int for me to see that, so long as war is 
on and that Frinch stronghold is permitted to stand 
as a rendezvous for the Frinch and painted heathens, 
so long will New England be under the fire o’ a big- 
sized amazement. If an inemy stood in front o’ me. 
I’d consider it my bounden duty to drive him from 
his ambushment, though he be bigger’n I. Man’s 
duty may not always be p’inted with discretion.” 

It was then Captain Vaughan struck his fists to- 
gether with greater force, and he uttered the speech 
which opens this chapter. Though he had not seen 
Louisburg, the French fortress, he was quite familiar 
with it from second-hand descriptions. Many of his 
fishermen had seen it, and remarked upon its bold 
position and its value as an outlying post. The 
more minute description of the Woodranger had sug- 
gested to him the daring project hinted at by the 
astute forester, to whom, notwithstanding his pecul- 
iar view of prudence, nothing was really improbable 
or impossible. But he might have mentioned this 
same idea to almost any other man in New England 
than Captain Vaughan, and been laughed at for his 
pains, or been treated with silent contempt. This 
resolute soldier showed how readily he fell in with 
the scheme by beginning to lay out at once a plan 
of procedure. 

‘‘ Let me see what method had better be fol- 


2/8 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

lowed,” said Captain Vaughan, speaking as much to 
himself as his companion. ‘‘You are a man versed 
in warfare, Woodranger. What suggestion have you 
to offer } ” 

“ Mebbe it be a knack given me to pick up the 
tracks o' the bear and the painter, or the trail o’ the 
red. Aye, I do not previcate the truth, and I trust 
I ne’er may be thought to be boasting, when I say 
that I may have mastered some o’ natur’s secrets, 
seeing natur’s book be open to all, but in this war- 
fare o’ plain shooting, where it is luck and not knack 
that wins, I am not adept. I can ne’er dissemble, 
man, it be wanton slaying o’ human lives. And yet, 
seeing you have called my attention to it, — mind 
you, I ne’er wish to trail o’er another man’s jedg- 
ment, — a goodish force o’ troops might be taken by 
ships within a short distance o’ the works, and then 
set ashore, to creep ’pon the inemy and ketch ’em 
napping, like squirrels in their winter quarters.” 

“ Winter quarters ! ” cried Captain Vaughan. 
“ Man alive ! that gives me an idea. The snow 
must fall to a great depth in that region } ” 

“It do, ’yon’ prevication.” 

“ And in the winter is often piled into high 
drifts .? ” 

“That be true. I do not disremember how a 
fri’nd and I once perambulated o’er the snow that 
lay in big windrows — ” 


THE LOUISBURG EXPEDITION. 


279 


‘‘ As high as tree-tops in places, no doubt ? 

I disremember o' seeing sich high ones, though 
they do — " 

‘‘You say the walls of the fortifications of Louis- 
burg are not over thirty feet high. What an easy 
matter it would be for a body of foot-soldiers to be 
marched right over the works by climbing one of 
those big snow-drifts, which must fairly bank up the 
breastworks. Zounds, man ! the way to save New 
England is to carry war into the enemy's country. 
Louisburg must and shall be ours ! " 

His impulsive nature, filled with the thought of 
this daring undertaking, the equal of which was not 
matched in the long and sanguinary wars of early 
New England, Captain Vaughan immediately put 
aside all further consideration of matters of a per- 
sonal nature. 

“We must act in this affair immediately," he said. 
“As you say. New England must be warned of her 
danger, and while you are doing that I will set on 
foot plans to capture this French stronghold. This 
very scheme of the government of France to slaugh- 
ter us all will prove a powerful incentive to rise 
against the enemy which stops at nothing to carry 
out its infamous ends. But you are alone. Wood- 
ranger. Where is young Rogers, who went away 
with you } " 

“ I opine the lad will speak for himself, William, 


28 o 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


seeing he has followed me here,” and he had barely 
finished speaking before the door opened and Robert 
Rogers stood before them. 

‘‘You are ahead of me, Woodranger,” extending a 
hand, which was fervently clasped first by the Wood- 
ranger and then Captain Vaughan. “ I got along as 
soon as I could. I had hard work to get Captain 
Sweet ser to put in here for me.” 

“He is going to Boston ? ” 

“ Yes.” 

“ I am glad to see you, Rob,” declared Captain 
Vaughan. “ The Woodranger and I are planning a 
tremendous scheme to circumvent the French, and 
we want the help of just such fellows as you.” 

“ I am sure several will go from the valley of the 
Merrimack. In fact, I am sure we can form a com- 
pany of Rangers under Captain John Goffe, who will 
do good work.” 

“ Good ! I know of no better man than Goffe. I 
am sure we can depend on Samuel Moore, of Ports- 
mouth, to head a company. Oh, New Hampshire 
will do her part. I will see Governor Wentworth as 
soon as possible. The matter has got to be pushed 
right along. I have a ship which will take us to 
Portsmouth without delay, and we have got to act 
promptly. Remember also that secrecy counts in 
this game. Our enemy must not get an inkling of 
what is afoot.” 


THE LOUISE URG EXPEDITION, 


281 


Having come to this unanimous conclusion to act 
in the matter, the three prepared for immediate de- 
parture to Portsmouth, which journey was made in 
safety. At that place Rob and the Woodranger 
bade adieu to the genial Captain Vaughan, and 
sought their home in the Merrimack valley, where 
they were accorded a glad welcome. But the news 
they brought of the depredations of the French and 
their Indian allies caused alarm among the pioneers 
of this vicinity, who realised that they were in immi- 
nent peril of their lives. Rob’s parents lived just 
above the Falls of Namaske, which was the home of 
the Starks, while Captain Goffe and others lived a 
little below, so he remained a few days with them 
before taking part in the active scenes which fol- 
lowed. 

The work of carrying out the plan of the expedi- 
tion to Louisburg, though considered of little im- 
portance by the earlier historians, has been told 
quite fully, and the daring and hazard of the enter- 
prise described in detail. Captain Vaughan did not 
rest until he had placed the matter before the officials 
in control of the provinces at the time. The dis- 
closure of the plot of the French, together with the 
account of their fiendish and cold-blooded actions, 
aroused the English colonists to a fighting pitch. 
They felt that these indignities must be met squarely 
and promptly, or the worst would come. The suffer- 


282 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


ers at Annapolis-Royal had been largely Massachu- 
setts men, and that province on October 19th declared 
war against the French and the Indians, who had so 
largely assisted the former, and a bounty was offered 
for scalps and prisoners. Great insecurity was felt 
all along the line of the frontier, and many settle- 
ments were broken up thus early in the scene, the 
inhabitants seeking places of less danger. 

Captain Vaughan, with the friends whom he en- 
listed in the undertaking, persisted in his purpose 
with remarkable faith and courage. He appealed to 
Governor Wentworth for assistance, but was told 
that Governor Shirley, of Massachusetts, should take 
the first step. The latter was willing to do this, and 
he wrote the British Ministry, showing the importance 
of capturing Louisburg, on account of the menace it 
constantly gave the New England fishermen, the safe 
and convenient place of refuge for the French priva- 
teers then harassing the seas, and the general impor- 
tance of the stronghold to France. 

But the scheme, on the whole, was considered vis- 
ionary and impracticable, and the matter dragged all 
through the fall and early part of the winter. The 
New Hampshire Assembly declined to act in the 
affair, until Captain Vaughan, through his personal 
activity and influence, succeeded in obtaining, by a 
majority of one, a vote to perform its part in the pro- 
posed expedition. Without waiting to hear from the 


THE LOUISE URG EXPEDITION. 283 

Ministry across the ocean, Governor Shirley sent 
out letters urging the matter, and money being voted 
by the Assemblies of the provinces to carry on the 
expense and men called upon to enlist, the expedition 
became a foregone conclusion. William Pepperell, 
Esq., of Kittery, Maine, was given the command of 
the sea and land forces, though he had had no greater 
military experience than the command of a regiment 
of militia. But he proved amply fitted for the lead- 
ership. It must be remembered that New England 
had no regular soldiers at that time, that this expe- 
dition was being made entirely on its own respon- 
sibility, without waiting for assistance from the old 
country, which made the affair the more remarkable. 
On the other hand, had they waited for royal sanc- 
tion, a British regular would have been placed in com- 
mand, and, judging by other experiences, he would 
have made a miserable failure of the whole under- 
taking. So it was doubtless best just as it occurred. 

Other conditions were working for the benefit 
of the daring colonists, though this was not under- 
stood at the time. For one thing, Governor Duques- 
nel, of Breton Island, died while these arrangements 
were being made, and he was succeeded in office by 
Duchambon, who was poorly fitted to take the position. 
The fleet of the French that was expected to destroy 
all of New England did not leave France at all, since, 
like most of the French plots, the plan had been dis- 


284 the young gunbearer. 

closed prematurely. The very opening of the war 
in the colonies was of itself one of the worst blunders 
on their parts. Not only did the fleet of war fail to 
appear, but even the store ships for the province 
failed to reach the port of Louisburg. Leaving home 
late in the season, and winter coming on uncommonly 
early that year, these vessels were compelled to steer 
south and seek refuge in the West Indies. As a 
result of the shortage of provisions, the prisoners 
that had been taken at Canseau in May were sent 
to Boston. From them much valuable information 
of the situation and condition of Louisburg was 
obtained. Their accounts strengthened decidedly 
Captain Vaughan's idea. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER. 

I AM looking for the victor of this match ; show 
him to me that I may trail his plumes in the sand ! 
exclaimed a loud voice, breaking in upon the medley 
of joyous cries and outbursts of merriment with a 
suddenness and chill which hushed every sound, 
while the half-hundred people gathered within sight 
of the Falls of the Merrimack glanced up to see a 
horseman looking down upon them. The hoof-strokes 
of a horse had been heard the moment before, but 
no one had thought the matter worthy of attention. 
Now the entire aspect of the situation seemed 
abruptly changed. 

The occasion was a festive gathering of the pio- 
neers in that vicinity to witness a wrestling match 
between the champions of the settlement, and to 
celebrate the success of the harvest season, for it 
was in the glorious month of October. The gold 
and silver, bronze and brown, of the frost artist lay 
on the maple and sumac, the oak and ash, while the 
285 


286 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


green of the pine had taken on its autumn tint. 
Naturally, the crowd was made up largely of the 
younger element of the population, though there was 
a generous sprinkling of heads that vied with the 
silver of the forest under the touch of the frosts 
of years. Among these was the well-known and 
beloved Archie Stark, still hale, hearty, and over- 
flowing with the sunlight of his generous nature. 
He was the father of John and William Stark, then 
boys in their teens, but destined to soon win for 
themselves names of wide renown. 

Close by Mr. Stark, leaning heavily on a stout 
oaken staff, which like his own stalwart figure was 
bent and gnarled, stood that Highland relic of old 
Scotland, Robert MacDonald, his thin, silvery locks 
falling about his shoulders, except when the wanton 
autumn breeze played among them. Beside this 
stern, rugged form, the December of that beautiful 
scene, with fair hands outstretched over a young 
man kneeling at her feet, every outline of figure and 
every movement one of perfect grace and beauty, 
stood the May of that forest picture. She was his 
granddaughter, Rilma, the child of his only son, and 
she was in the act of placing upon the uncovered 
head of the youth before her the crown of wild flow- 
ers and evergreen for the victor of the day’s tour- 
nament. The newcomer must have realised the 
intention of this fair Queen of the Forest, for he 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER, 28'/ 

hastened to cry out, before any one could offer him 
greeting : 

Hold ! I dispute his right to wear that crown. I 
challenge him to a bout with me, and if he be not a 
sneaking brand he will accept.’' 

As he finished speaking, the stranger, for no person 
in all the assembly recognised him, threw himself 
from his horse, drew his tall, athletic figure up to its 
full height, and glanced scornfully over the crowd, 
saying by actions if not in words : 

See ! I am the conquering hero ! ” 

A murmur of mingled surprise and chagrin ran 
over the throng, and for a moment the gaze of all 
turned to see what effect these taunting words would 
have upon the young victor of the match. Without 
hesitation he arose to his feet, and, as he stood erect, 
an involuntary cry of wonder, if not dismay, came 
from the bearded lips of the unknown rival, for, tall 
as he was, — six feet in height if an inch, — this 
young champion of Namaske was fully two inches 
his superior, and he had never gazed on a nobler, 
more manly figure. His full, smooth face was of 
great beauty, while his dark eyes flashed like fire as 
he met his gaze. 

Who are you who breaks upon the good cheer of 
a party of boyish pleasure-seekers with such rude 
speech ? ” demanded the young man, in a clear, 
ringing voice. 


288 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


One who has come fifty miles to show you what 
it is to wrestle, if he can find one here who dares to 
try him a bout/' 

The expressions of the crowd showed that this 
speech was not received with a spirit of good-will, 
and among the low mutterings some one was heard 
to say : 

‘‘ Let's ride the fool into the river, boys ! " 

The young champion checked further utterance of 
this kind by a wave of his hand, though he did not 
instantly reply to the stranger, who mistook his hesi- 
tation for fear, and exclaimed : 

‘'It is just as I expected, and I have taken my 
long journey in vain." 

“Now's me," said the well-known voice of the 
Woodranger, who, unobserved by the others, had ap- 
peared upon the scene, accompanied by Rob Rogers, 
simultaneously with the coming of this blustering 
stranger, “ he be showing his weak p'ints in vaunting 
o' his strength. I've always noticed, lad," address- 
ing the young champion, “that the red who yelled 
the loudest when he went into scrimmage got the 
fewest scalps." 

“ I do not believe he can throw me, Woodranger, 
but is he worth the bother } " 

“The leetle animal sometimes makes the most 
noise, and these be times when noisy braggarts be 
in the way." 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER. 289 

Sand his back for him, Norman, or I will do it 
for you. I will give you just three minutes in which 
to do it, and then I have got something of impor- 
tance to say to you,'' said Robert Rogers. 

Those who were near enough to catch this whis- 
pered conversation gave a low cheer of encouragement, 
which the newcomer mistook to mean admiration for 
him, and he said, in a loud tone : 

I hope that fine wreath won't get wilted before 
it is placed on my head where it belongs." 

‘‘ It will be," replied the young wrestler, whom 
Rob had called Norman, and whose full name was 
Norman McNiel, an honoured name in the history 
of those days. How will you try a bout with me ? " 

‘‘‘Catch as catch can,'" replied the other; “best 
two in three, with no stop between the bouts." 

“That just suits me," replied Norman McNiel, 
stepping forward still bareheaded, while his friends 
cheered loudly. “Select your ground, sir, and give 
the word."' 

The stranger, handing the reins of his horse to a 
bystander, advanced at a swift pace, and, without 
uttering a word, seized upon Norman with the evi- 
dent purpose of flinging him to the ground before 
he should be prepared for the attack. He did suc- 
ceed in lifting the young champion fairly from his 
feet, which showed that he possessed great strength, 
but he missed his calculation when he thought to 


290 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


outdo the young McNiel. The moment the latter’s 
feet touched the ground again, understanding now 
the trick of the other, he stooped slightly, caught 
him in such a manner as to bring him midway upon 
his left hip, and, swinging his body half-way around, 
fairly lifted him up and then dropped him upon the 
earth with a force that made him quiver from head 
to feet. 

A prolonged cheer rang from the spectators at this 
summary treatment of the boaster, which filled his 
ears as he staggered to his feet. Maddened by 
this as much as at his defeat, the bully renewed his 
attack on Norman, who was better prepared to meet 
him this time. Bending forward slightly, he seemed, 
to the excited spectators, to catch the stranger upon 
his shoulders, though it all took place so quickly that 
no one saw clearly just how it was done. At any 
rate, when Norman straightened his tall, powerful 
form, the other was lifted upward, his long legs were 
flying in the air for a moment, and then he was flung 
into the sand with a force which caused him to 
remain motionless, while the exultant shouts of the 
onlookers rang far and wide up and down the valley 
of the Merrimack. One and all were quick to de- 
clare it the handsomest feat done in that vicinity for 
many a day. 

The crestfallen stranger finally rose sadly, slowly 
to his feet, which act was a signal for renewed cheer- 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER. 29 1 

ing, mingled with cutting sarcasm for the defeated 
wrestler. Without replying, except by dark scowls 
and muttered exclamations, the disappointed man 
seized the rein of his horse, sprang into the saddle, 
and amid the jeers of the spectators rode away, his 
identity unknown to this day. 

I will hear what you have to say, Rob,'' declared 
Norman, without showing any discomfiture over his 
recent struggle. 

If Master Rogers will pardon me," said Rilma 
MacDonald, I will crown the hero first, and now 
that he has won this last victory his honour is all the 
more deserving." 

Rob bowed consent, and amid a hushed scene the 
fair maid placed on the head of the victor the wreath 
of honour, which act was the signal for a round of 
cheers, following which the entire crowd joined 
hands, Rob and the Woodranger alone excepted, 
and danced around the central figures of this happy 
occasion. 

Let hearts be merry while they may," declared 
the Woodranger, all too soon will another cry wake 
the valley, and then there’ll be time enough for the 
weeping that follows the laughter and the silence 
that follows the war-whoop o' the painted heathen. 
I wish we'd waited another day afore we brought 
this message o’ war, I swan I do, lad." 

The leaders of the throng, knowing that something 


292 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


of importance was about to be imparted, the merry- 
making soon subsided, and a graver aspect came over 
the scene. The little episode with the stranger was 
forgotten, as Norman McNiel and others gathered 
about Rob Rogers and the Woodranger. The last 
moved silently apart from the midst of the crowd, 
standing with his bearded chin resting on the muzzle 
of his gun, while his whole being seemed to be 
absorbed in meditation, apparently lost to the keen 
sense of excitement reigning about him. Rob was 
doing the talking, except for the exclamations of 
deep feeling and of assent to what he was saying. 

^‘The French will never give us rest until this 
quarrel between her and Great Britain has been 
settled,'' he declared. ‘‘ And so long as there is an 
Indian on the borders of New England ready to listen 
to the promises of the French, so long must New 
England suffer at their hands. We must strike them 
as we would a rattlesnake. We shall never have a 
better opportunity to deal our first blow than by 
taking Louisburg. Not many of you may know of 
the importance of this post, and therefore will hesi- 
tate about joining Captain Vaughan in this expedition, 
but as for me, I start to-morrow ! " 

A faint cheer greeted the boy ranger at this fear- 
less declaration, which meant far more than any of 
them dreamed. In a moment he continued : 

‘‘ Down in Acadia there are two classes of people 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER, 293 

in whose hands rests the welfare of that fair country. 
One of them is the Neutral ; the other the Gunbearer. 
Which is the greater enemy to us I cannot tell you, 
but, when a French officer at the head of his squad 
demanded which I was, I told him to his teeth that 
I was a Gunbearer. Boys, I am not going to eat 
those words ! Who among you will go with me to 
Louisburg 

^‘On the day of the shooting match," when we 
placed our bullets together in the bull’s-eye of the 
stave,” spoke up Norman McNiel, gently breaking 
from the restraining hold of Rilma, I told you I 
should be glad to go with you when it came to trail- 
ing the red enemy. If the time has come, Rob, I am 
ready to keep my promise.” 

‘‘ I knew you were true, Norman. The time has 
come. I told the Frenchman I was a Gunbearer, 
though I did not think it necessary to tell him for 
whom I bore that gun. Now I am going down to 
Louisburg to show him just what I meant. As long 
as I have the power to draw bead, and there is an 
enemy left, I shall help defend the homes of New 
England.” 

''Ay,” responded Norman, clasping his hand, "and 
I will stand beside you.” 

He would have said more, but his speech was 
drowned by the lusty cheer of the brave hearts 
" See “ The Woodranger.” 


.294 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


present. As this subsided, a young man of nearly 
the same height as Norman stepped forth from, the 
throng and joined the twain. 

‘‘ Three cheers for the volunteers ! exclaimed one 
of the spectators, and the others repeated the cry 
until it rang up and down the valley. 

At this juncture Rilma caught up the evergreen 
which had been left in fashioning the crown for 
Norman, and, beginning to weave it into shape with 
deft fingers, said : 

There is more than one hero here to-day, and 
every one who declares himself a defender of our 
homes and the homes of Acadia shall wear a wreath.'* 

Again a cheer rang out, and it had barely finished 
before Rilma had placed on the head of Rob a 
wreath similiar to that worn by his companion. 
Other fair maidens now came to her assistance, and 
in a brief time four more wreaths were made, and 
one of them was then placed on the head of the 
other volunteer. 

‘‘ Come, Woodranger ! " said Rilma, looking more 
beautiful than ever in her excitement, ‘‘ I know with- 
out asking that you are going with the boys. Let 
me crown you as their noble chief." 

He started at the sound of her voice, as if suddenly 
awakened from a sleep. Then, glancing timidly over 
the crowd, without looking toward her, replied : 

‘‘ Forgive the ol* man if he failed to ketch the 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER, 295 

sense o' your pretty speech. That he’ll ne’er desert 
the lads I do not think that I previcate the truth in 
saying, but as a simple companion, — as a father 
might his sons, — but ne’er as their chief. If there 
be need o’ a chief, which I have ne’er the discretion 
to say, let it be Rob. There be wisdom in his head 
’yon’ his years, and strength in his limbs that the 
years rob an ol’ man of.” 

Those who were standing near wondered at the 
forester’s emotion, and there were those present who 
claimed that the tears were coursing down his 
bearded cheeks. Be that as it may he began to move 
silently away from the spot, and a minute later dis- 
appeared down the bank of the river. His abrupt 
departure was scarcely noticed in the dramatic scene 
being enacted near the centre of the group of spec- 
tators, where Rilma stood, like a fairy queen, bestow- 
ing her favours on the gallant youths who were so 
ready to follow their duty in the scenes of warfare. 

‘‘ I agree to what Woodranger has said, and name 
Robert Rogers as chief of the Gunbearers of — of 
— of Silver River, our own fair Merrimack which 
pleased the red men so ! Who will wear next the 
wreath of the Gunbearers of Silver River ? ” 

“ I will, if you please, Rilma,” said a comely youth 
of two or three and twenty, stepping modestly from 
out of the crowd, his countenance suffused with 
blushes, for, brave at heart as he was, he was timid in 


296 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 

the presence of her he loved. She showed some 
slight embarrassment at first, but quickly recovered 
her self-control, saying, in a low tone : 

‘‘ I was afraid, Edward, you would not come for- 
ward.” 

I am not a coward, dearest,” he replied, in the 
same low tone, “ and I thought only of the separation 
from you.” 

This short dialogue, carried on in an undertone, 
was swallowed up by the cheering, which seemed 
contagious on that occasion. Immediately following 
Edward Hyland came three more to wear the wreath, 
all from a neighbouring township called Londonderry, 
and by names Adam Gault, Robert Kennedy, and 
Andrew Logan. He who was already noted as a 
woodsman, and who was to become more famous as a 
leader of the scouts of the frontier, John Goffe, next 
came forward amid the cheering of the spectators. 

‘‘There are two wreaths more,” said the forest 
queen. “ Who will wear them } ” 

“ I wish I was big enough,” exclaimed a boyish 
voice at her elbow. Turning about, she discovered 
by her side a well-known boy by the name of John 
Stark, who was to become more noted than any of 
the others in the Indian wars to follow, and in the 
war for independence. 

“You shall have one, Johnny,” replied Rilma, 
“ even if you cannot go, for I know you will do your 


THE GUNBEARERS OF SILVER RIVER. 297 

duty by and by/' placing a wreath on his head as 
she spoke, little dreaming then how well her proph- 
ecy was to be fulfilled within a few years. 

I will wear the other one, if you please, my fairy 
queen," said a mellow voice from the outskirt of the 
crowd, and immediately a tall, handsome young man 
of thirty pushed his way forward through the throng 
of people. I do not see how any of you young men 
can stand idle here at the pleading of so fair a 
sponsor." 

^‘Do you mean that you will go to Louisburg, 
Doctor Thornton " asked Rilma, who for the first 
time showed hesitation. 

Methinks a man must be a weakling who would 
not go into the very fire of death crowned by so fair 
a goddess," he replied, gallantly, as she laid the last 
wreath with trembling hands on the brown curls of 
the uncovered head of the noblest patriot in that 
band of brave sons of the frontier, while renewed 
cheering made the welkin ring. 

Under the exciting spirit of the changed situation, 
which had seemed to transform the festival into a 
council of war, the members of the assembly soon 
began to seek their homes, though it would be many 
days — ay, years — before they would cease to dis- 
cuss the ominous turn in the affairs of the colonists. 

* Matthew Thornton, who was afterward one of the signers of 
the Declaration of Independencec 


CHAPTER XXX. 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 

As they had heard nothing from the fugitive 
Briants, both Rob and the Woodranger were anxious 
to start for Breton, in the hope that they might learn 
something of the unfortunate family. This was 
partly their reason for starting on foot at once for 
Portsmouth, from which port they expected to find 
passage by vessel to their destination. So that 
couple, accompanied by Norman McNiel and Ed- 
ward Hyland, started within a few days, while their 
companions promised to follow them as soon as they 
should be needed. 

Upon reaching Portsmouth, our four met Captain 
Vaughan, who was very much pleased with the en- 
couraging news they brought, and afforded them 
great satisfaction by ^announcing that a ship was 
then in the harbour, which would take them to Can- 
seau without delay. On the day set for sailing, 
however, it was decided best by the owners to 
abandon the voyage until the Louisburg affair had 
been settled. 


298 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 


299 


The disappointment was felt by our party very 
keenly, but the excitement of the proposed expedi- 
tion was now becoming intense, and a departure ex- 
pected at an early date. Though this did not come 
as soon as had been hoped by some, the day for sail- 
ing came at last, when the armed sloop, convoying 
the transports, led the way gaily down the harbour 
to the strains of music more sacred than martial. So 
impatient were the New Hampshire men, numbering 
about five hundred men, that they would not brook 
the delay necessary to join the Massachusetts vol- 
unteers at Boston, as Governor Shirley originally 
planned, but actually sailed two days ahead of the 
others, with the agreement to meet them at Canseau. 

The Gunbearers of Silver River, with the excep- 
tion of Dr. Matthew Thornton, who went as surgeon, 
were placed under the command of Captain Thomas 
Waldron, a descendant of the famous Major Waldron 
who had been slain in the Dover massacre in 1689. 
Colonel Samuel Moore was in command of the regi- 
ment, while Nathan Meserve was lieutenant-colonel. 
The little war-fleet sailed from Portsmouth, March 
23, 1745, or, by the new reckoning, on April 4. 

As has been remarked, a strong religious feeling 
moved the colonists in their attack upon the French 
stronghold, which its builders had aptly styled the 
Dunkirk of America,’' and nowhere did that expe- 
dition partake more of the character of a crusade 


300 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


than with this body of troops from New Hampshire. 
A few days previous to its departure, a large 
meeting was held at an old garrison on the River 
Piscataqua, when Captain Waldron's company was 
presented with a new banner made by the women 
of New Hampshire, and inscribed with the motto : 

“ Nil Desperandum^ Christo Ducei*^ 

This meant, in plain English, ‘‘ Despair of nothing, 
Christ being our leader." The Rev. George White- 
field, then the foremost preacher in New England, 
had suggested this inscription, and blessed the flag 
and the expedition. Edward Hyland was unan- 
imously chosen as colour-bearer, and you may be 
assured he accepted the honour with pardonable 
pride, determined that it should be borne faithfully 
as long as it was in his hands. 

The voyage to Canseau, though made at a critical 
season, was performed without mishap, but the New 
Hampshire force had to remain idle two days before 
the arrival of the Massachusetts contingent, consist- 
ing of a fleet of forty-one vessels and three thousand 
men. 

During the stop at Canseau the little fleet was 
visited by a New England man stopping on this 
coast. That is, it should be said that this man's 
visit was involuntary, as he was picked up half a 
mile from the shore, clinging to a log on which he 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 


301 


had drifted away from the land in an escape from a 
party of Indians. Though he bore unpleasant tid- 
ings, he was gladly met by the Woodranger and 
Rob, who inquired if he had ever seen or heard 
of Wallace Briant and his family, whom they had 
parted with as they were on their way to the vicinity 
of this man’s home. He had met them, and reported 
that Briant had so far recovered from his wounds as 
to start to return to Grand Pre. But he had made a 
mistake in doing that, as he was soon overtaken and 
captured by a party of French and Indians, led by 
the Dark Abbe. He and his family had been taken 
to Quebec as prisoners, where this man believed 
they were at that time, if their lives had been 
spared. The Woodranger was greatly affected by 
this intelligence, and, had it not been for Rob and the 
others, would have left the expedition to Louisburg 
then and there. 

It does not come within the scope of our tale to 
narrate the particulars of the siege of Louisburg, 
except for the account of an incident connected with 
it, which afforded a pathetic interest to our little 
band of Gunbearers of Silver River. Governor 
Shirley had prepared a very minute plan of action, 
even going so far as to appoint the hour when the 
vessels should meet to make a combined attack on 
the fortress. But he had failed to take into account 
the uncertainty of the weather at that season of the 


302 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


year, and the dangers environing the coast of Cape 
Breton. The fleet was obliged to wait at Canseau 
three weeks before the ice was sufficiently cleared 
for it to proceed. This delay enabled a new com- 
mander to appear upon the scene. He was Admiral 
Warren, of the British fleet at West India, who had 
declined to act under the request of Governor Shir- 
ley, but who had later received orders from England 
to proceed with the New England force. He held a 
consultation with General Pepperell, and soon after 
the advance toward Louisburg was resumed. 

Though so long delayed on their way, the French 
were not aware of the coming of the fleet and army 
until the transports appeared off Chaparouge Bay. 
Thus the New England troops effected a landing 
without any stubborn resistance from the enemy ; 
who retreated to the fortified town, burning all of 
the outstanding houses for fear they might serve as 
cover for the English. They also sunk some vessels 
in the harbour, expecting to hinder the entrance of 
the fleet. It has already been mentioned that the 
fortifications consisted of stone ramparts, from thirty 
to forty feet in height, and that the whole were sur- 
rounded by a wide ditch of eighty feet, except for an 
opening of two hundred yards in width near the sea, 
which place of entrance and exit was guarded by a 
line of pickets. The entrance to the harbour was 
overlooked by a battery of thirty cannons planted on 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG, 


303 


a small island, and a grand or royal battery of twenty- 
eight cannons, 42-pounders and two 1 8-pounders, 
defended the lower end of the harbour. A promi- 
nent object by day, whose red eye at night looked 
ominously out over the waters, was a lighthouse 
standing on a high cliff nearly opposite the battery 
on the island. The main fortress of the powerful 
military and naval station had six bastions and eight 
batteries, with embrasures for one hundred and 
forty-eight cannons, but only about one-third of 
these were mounted. Without displaying its real 
strength from within, this stronghold presented an 
outward appearance that would have seemed to 
daunt even the bold spirits bent upon its destruction. 

After a brief consultation between the leaders of 
the combined sea and land forces, it was decided to 
attempt an entrance into the town by the west gate, 
over a drawbridge protected by a circular battery 
mounting sixteen guns of 14-pound shot. The com- 
mand of this body of soldiers was entrusted to Capt. 
William Vaughan, who had refused a regular com- 
mission, but who was induced to act under the rank 
and pay of a lieutenant-colonel. He chose for his 
followers in this hazardous undertaking a detach- 
ment of New Hampshire troops, among whom were 
the Gunbearers of Silver River. 

Effecting a landing as speedily as possible. Colonel 
Vaughan led his resolute men through a narrow belt 


304 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


of woods within sight of the city, he and his followers 
giving expression to three rousing cheers as they 
marched on. Reaching the northeast quarter of the 
harbour by night, the troops captured some ware- 
houses containing naval stores, setting fire to the 
buildings. The wind drove the smoke into the 
grand battery in such volumes that the French be- 
came alarmed, believing that it was all over with 
them, and, spiking the guns and cutting the hal- 
yards from the flag-staff, retreated to the city. A 
deep silence then fell upon the scene, lasting until 
morning. 

Making a tour of inspection as soon as it was 
daylight. Colonel Vaughan, accompanied by a squad 
of thirteen men, crept up the hill overlooking the 
battery, until they discovered the true situation of 
the deserted works. The smokeless chimneys of 
the barracks, and the staff minus its flag, quickly 
caught the attention of the little band, whose leader 
said : 

“ How easy we might capture the battery if an 
entrance could be effected without too much delay 
or exposure.” 

“ Me do it,” spoke up an Indian from one of the 
Massachusetts tribes, who was among the scouts. 

“Then go ahead,” declared Colonel Vaughan, 
without stopping to ask how. The red man instantly 
began to crawl cautiously forward toward the works. 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 


30s 


Now’s me,” declared the Woodranger, ‘^the red 
do show an amazing lack o’ discretion not common 
with his race. There may be an ambushment ahint 
’em guns. The French are deceitful.” 

‘‘ But see ! the fellow is crawling toward one of 
the embrasures,” said Rob Rogers, who lay beside 
the forester, and was watching as earnestly as his 
companions the movements of the daring Indian. 
The latter was seen to reach one of the embrasures, 
and a moment later he had disappeared inside the 
battery. Fortunately, the place was entirely de- 
serted, and, opening the gate for his companions. 
Colonel Vaughan and his little squad stood inside 
the works within half an hour, having captured the 
place without bloodshed. In his exultation Colonel 
Vaughan then sent the following message by the 
trusty Indian to General Pepperell : 

‘‘ May it please your Honour to be informed that, 
by the grace of God, and the courage of thirteen 
men, I entered the royal battery about nine o’clock, 
and am waiting for a reinforcement and a flag.” 

‘‘ What a pity so good a staff should be without 
its colours, and we without aught to show of our 
victory,” said Rob Rogers, his young, enthusiastic 
heart fired with the spirit of the conquest. Here, 
Dunham, your coat with its red lining is just what 
we want. Lend it to me,” and himself taking it 
from the shoulders of his companion, the adventur- 


3o6 the young gunbearer, 

ous young Gunbearer climbed the staff, hand over 
hand, and a minute later he had nailed the im- 
promptu colours to its top, amid the cheers of his 
companions. 

But this daring act so aroused the French that a 
hundred men were immediately sent from the city to 
dislodge the bold besiegers. This party could reach 
the place only by boat, and, knowing that it would 
not do to allow the enemy to effect a landing. Colo- 
nel Vaughan quickly led his handful of gallant 
followers to the beach, where they prevented the 
French from reaching the land, notwithstanding the 
fact that they were exposed to constant fire from 
the city. In the midst of the sanguine fight, when 
it began to look as if the doughty little band was 
having more than its match, reinforcements arrived 
on the scene, and the French were obliged to give 
up. A few minutes later the flag of the New Eng- 
land forces was flying from the staff, proclaiming the 
victory of the gallant thirteen under the intrepid 
projector of the siege. 

This took place on May 2d, and, encouraged by 
this success, the English drilled out the guns which 
had been spiked by the enemy before their desertion 
of the place, and these weapons, mostly 42-pounders, 
were turned upon the city with good effect, several 
of the shots falling within the citadel. Ducham- 
bon refusing to surrender, the besiegers decided to 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 307 

strengthen the position of the land forces. Five 
fascine batteries were erected, mounted with sixteen 
pieces of cannon and several mortars. By means of 
these the western gate was destroyed, and consider- 
able impression made on the circular battery. 

All this, done within sight of the enemy, had not 
been accomplished without hard and dangerous work. 
For fourteen successive nights the troops were em- 
ployed in dragging cannon from the landing through 
a morass, where an ox could not go. This had to be 
done on sledges, by the men with straps on their 
shoulders and sinking to their knees in the mud. 
Bareheaded, barefooted, their clothes in tatters, and 
poorly fed, the plucky troops toiled on night after 
night, until they had accomplished their purpose, 
and then stood ready to undertake the most 
hazardous and disastrous part of the long and 
laborious siege. 

An order was issued to attack the island battery, 
and four hundred volunteers from different regiments 
were selected for the hazardous undertaking. A 
large share of this force was made up of New 
Hampshire men, and among these were five of the 
Gunbearers of Silver River : their young chief, Rob- 
ert Rogers, the Woodranger, John Goffe, Norman 
McNiel, and, last but not least, the brave young en- 
sign, Edward Hyland. Of them all, the Woodranger 
had alone shown hesitation in undertaking this part 


308 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


of the siege. It was not his nature to fall in line 
easily as a soldier under command, but rather to fol- 
low the bent of his own inclination. He had been 
valuable as a scout, and no man was more respected 
than he. With Rob he had seen the island battery 
as no other man had, and noted the strong position 
of the French force entrenched within. 

It may be the natural o'erdiscretion o' an ol' 
man who sees but the weakness o’ his own arms and 
the strength o’ his inemy’s. Now’s me, I fear this 
move will prove a wanton waste o’ human life. The 
ambushment o' the French be well laid, and they hoi' 
us at their marcy." 

‘‘ Tut — tut, Woodranger ! " exclaimed Edward 
Hyland, in a merry tone. I am going to plant this 
flag inside those works before we are done, or it 
shall be my shroud." 

‘‘The lad be true grit," said the forester, looking 
in the opposite direction and out over the water 
where lay the ships of Admiral Warren. Before 
any reply could be made, the command to advance 
was passed along the line, and the first charge was 
made. It was like rushing into a storm of leaden 
hail, and the brave volunteers were obliged to retreat. 
But the column was formed for a second attack with- 
out loss of time, and again it dashed against the 
works of the enemy with a courage that nothing 
could daunt. 


THE HERO OF LOUISBURG. 


309 


For the second time the brave men from New 
England were repulsed, but not disheartened. Their 
leader again rallied them, and not only for the third, 
but for the fourth time, did they charge upon the 
enemy, to meet with the inevitable defeat, though 
falling back in remarkably good order. Even the 
intrepid Vaughan hesitated before attempting what 
he began to see was well-nigh impossible to accom- 
plish, when the youthful bearer of the regiment’s 
colours sprang forward, and shaking the flag, already 
riddled with bullets, high over his head, shouted : 

“ Who falters now } Dare to follow the old flag, 
and the victory is ours ! ” 

Every volunteer instantly caught the spirit of the 
brave speaker, and the sight of his heroic dash to 
the front and the banner that seemed to urge them 
on to victory fired the overtried troops with new 
zeal. As the gallant ensign leaped forward, the tall 
figure of the Woodranger was seen to leave the ranks 
and advance close beside him. Equal to any emer- 
gency, the indomitable Vaughan shouted the order : 

Forward — charge ! Let every man do his duty, 
and the battery must fall.” 

Nothing like that desperate charge was seen in all 
that forty-nine days of fighting before Louisburg. 
The French seemed to have reserved their leaden 
hail for the brave volunteers who sprang forward in 
the path of the inspired colour-bearer. They had 


310 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

not crossed half of the open space lying between 
them and the works of the enemy before the front 
ranks were thinned to an alarming extent. Still the 
stentorian tone of their leader urged them on, and 
still the flag of the Gunbearers waved in the air, the 
life of its ensign spared as if by a miracle. 

The first fire of the French spent, and the riven 
ranks of the besiegers filled by those in the rear, it 
looked for a time as if the raw recruits, fighting 
against such terrible odds, were bound to win. But 
the entrenched forces had been so judiciously forti- 
fied that, though they did not equal in number the 
others, all of the conditions were in their favour. 
Without looking back to see the awful rout being 
made behind him, Edward Hyland shook aloft his 
flag and shouted a defiance to the enemy just as 
another volley of bullets whistled about him. With 
the cry unfinished, he sank upon the ground, the flag 
falling over his bleeding form. 

The Woodranger was still beside him, his gun 
smoking from its latest fire, as he saw his young 
friend fall. His bronze countenance for a moment 
became white, and then the order to retreat rang 
above the shots and medley of cries. Realising that 
the tide of battle had turned against them, the for- 
ester, unwilling to leave his fallen friend lying there, 
lifted his unconscious form in his arms, and beat a 
rapid retreat. As if out of respect to him and his 


THE HERO OF LOUISE URG. 311 

lifeless companion, the firing on the part of the 
enemy suddenly ceased. Well it might, for so disas- 
trous had been its furious volleys that nearly one-half 
of the gallant besiegers lay dead or wounded on the 
scene of the ill-fated charge. 

Norman McNiel had received a severe flesh-wound, 
but unmindful of that, he rushed forward to assist 
the forester in carrying his burden, though the latter 
paid no need to him as he strode to the rear and 
laid the unfortunate young man down on the sand, 
the flag for which he had fallen still wrapped about 
him. Dropping upon his knees, the Woodranger 
began a hasty examination of the wounds of the 
other. 

‘‘ Is he dead } '' asked Norman, anxiously, while 
a circle of battle-marked friends gathered about the 
place. It seemed a long time before the Wood- 
ranger replied, and then his voice was so husky that 
he could be scarcely heard : 

‘‘The lad has kept his faith. He’s gone ’yon’ 
the reach o’ the inemy. It be sad news to impart 
to the waiting lass. Why could not they have 
taken the ol’ man 1 I see it was coming — I see 
it was coming, and why did I ’low sich a blameful 
indiscretion ” 

Never had his friends seen the Woodranger so 
stricken with sorrow. He refused to leave the side 
of the inanimate form, ever and anon breaking out 


312 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


into speeches of reproach for himself in allowing 
what he seemed to think he might have prevented. 
Though the hope of capturing the battery was not 
abandoned, it was evident that some other tactics 
would have to be adopted. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY. 

A RESPITE on the part of the New England troops 
followed their futile attempt to capture the island 
battery, while a wave of sorrow ran over the sur- 
vivors for the fate of their fallen comrades. Deso- 
late Louisburg is to-day the resting-place of the 
bones of those gallant volunteers. Among the rest 
sleeps Ensign Edward Hyland, who was afterward 
breveted captain for meritorious conduct. His loss was 
keenly felt by all of the little band who had come 
from the valley of the Merrimack, but the blow fell 
heaviest on the Woodranger, who said, as they stood 
over the lifeless form for the last time : 

‘‘Aweel, now's me, it be a wanton way o’ natur’ 
that I, an ol’ gnarled oak scarred by the storms o’ 
years, be standing blindly at the border o’ the Dark 
Woods, while the young and vigorous maple, with 
leaves no bigger’n rabbit’s ears, has been felled by 
the lightning’s bolt. To him varsed in the ways 
o’ the wildwood, the trails o’ man and creetur’ be 
easy to follow, but neither the master o’ books nor 
313 


314 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


the seeker arter natur’s secrets can read the sign 
o’ the gray woodsman whose foot makes no print in 
the leaves o’ time, and who slays with a bow that has 
no twang. Nay, lads, do not think me murmuring. In 
all consistency I must agree that it is best for him to 
go now. There be fewer to weep for him than there 
would be if he had lived to widen his circle o’ fri’nds ; 
but for ah ol’ man like me there’ll be fewer to weep 
by and by. On the great neutral ground Edward 
has reached, he is safe ; can we say as much for the 
living ? ” 

If the desperate charges against the island battery 
had proved fruitless, they yet served to stimulate the 
colonists to greater endeavours. Some advantage 
must be gained, and that speedily if they wished to 
capture the works. On the nth of June a circular 
battery was erected on the mainland to the northeast, 
and from this vantage the guns of the French were 
finally silenced without much loss of life. 

Meanwhile, the sea force under Admiral Warren 
had succeeded in capturing a French supply-ship, 
which had a discouraging effect on Duchambon. 
Although so strongly entrenched, a feeling of discon- 
tent existed among his men, so that he was in con- 
stant dread of an outbreak or desertion if he should 
allow his soldiers to go outside the fortifications. 
Then, the New England troops had managed to 
move about in a way which gave the impression that 


AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY, 


3IS 


they were of greater number than was really the 
case. Thus, worried by troubles within his ranks, 
and believing that the English troops were fully able 
to carry on the siege indefinitely, on the 17th of 
June, after he had been besieged forty-nine days by 
the indomitable raw recruits from New England, the 
commander of Louisburg surrendered. 

Great rejoicing reigned among the colonists as 
soon as the French stronghold had capitulated, and 
their wild dreams had been realised. But it was 
learned at once that few, if any, of the troops would 
be allowed to return home until relief had come to 
hold the city. The Woodranger, however, had not 
enlisted as a volunteer, so no objection could be 
made against his departure whenever he chose. He 
sought Rob and Norman as soon as the news of the 
capitulation of Louisburg had reached them, saying : 

‘‘ I should previcate the truth did I not say that a 
heavy load lays on my heart like a bank o' snow. 
There be two trails to follow where there be but one 
pair o’ feet. I see in the path o’ the setting sun a 
maid waiting and watching for a lover who ne’er will 
return to lighten with the joy o’ a kind word the 
heart that be heavy. I can ne’er dissemble, lads, it 
would be like a father breaking the news to his only 
child to be the bearer o’ sich a message. Mebbe, 
lad,” addressing Norman, ‘‘you’ll speak to her of 
this. You have the fluency o’ speech which comes 


3i6 the young gunbearer. 

from books. They cannot keep you here overlong, and 
the heart does not break that is waiting. You will 
take this message to her, lad, and say to her from 
me that the wood that bends makes no plaint o’ 
suffering ? ” 

I will, Woodranger, though it is a sad duty. 
Rilma is to me all that a sister can be.” 

I know it, lad. The errant is safe with you. 
That leaves me but one trail to follow.” 

‘‘And that is to find the Briants } ” said Rob. 

“ If they be spared this long, lad, which it be not 
discreet for me to say.” 

“ I wish I could go with you, Woodranger,” said 
Rob, “but I can’t.” 

“ I understand, lad, I do. If the trail be not over- 
long or too deep kivered we shall meet ag’in,” and 
pressing their hands, unable to say more, he started 
on his long and uncertain search, while they joined 
the troops in their first visit to the walled city. 
When Colonel Vaughan and the others came to 
gaze on the fortifications of the French stronghold, 
and understood as they had not before the real 
strength of Louisburg, they were amazed at their 
success. 

“ Zounds, boys ! ” exclaimed the impetuous 
Vaughan, “here is a memento for us to take back 
to Portsmouth, as a reminder that we have seen and 
conquered Louisburg,” pointing to a bell whose 


AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY, 


317 


brazen tongue had often rung from the fortified 
chapel of the walled city/ 

The terms of capitulation consented to by Gov- 
ernor Duchambon gave to General Pepperell the 
custody of nineteen hundred prisoners of war. The 
city at this time contained about five thousand in- 
habitants, besides the armed forces, and general con- 
sternation reigned among them. But order was soon 
brought out of chaos, when a most astonishing bit 
of news reached Rob and Norman. This was noth- 
ing less than the fact that among the prisoners held 
by the French was the Briant family! 

Obtaining special permission to visit them as soon 
as they could, our friends found the others nearly 
overjoyed at meeting them. 

‘‘This seems like a special deliverance at the hand 
of Providence,'’ declared Mr. Briant, as he wrung the 
hand of Rob and then of Norman. “ I had given up 
all hope of ever escaping. We have been here for 
four months. But where is the Woodranger } ” 

When Rob had explained to him the search upon 
which the forester had departed, the Acadian ranger 
said : 

“We have much to thank him for, and I shall 
lose no time in going in quest of him. You and the 
children will be quite safe here, Mary. I hope it 

*This bell is now heard at the St. John’s Church, Portsmouth, 

N. H. 


3i8 the young gunbearer. 

will not be long before we shall be able to return to 
our home in Acadia. Yes, after parting with you 
on the St. Mary’s we reached Sherbrooke in safety, 
thanks to Jean Vallie. The noble fellow returned 
to his home as soon as he had seen us safely quar- 
tered, and we have not heard from him since. Per- 
haps we should have been better off to have remained 
there, but we were warned that the Dark Abbe had 
learned of our retreat, so we thought best to flee 
again. We tried to get to Barney River, but the 
Micmacs ran across us, and, after a fierce fight, 
for my wound had got better, we were captured and 
brought here. My wound is perfectly healed now, 
and I am anxious to rub off some of the rust coming 
of this long inactivity. So I shall find the Wood- 
ranger at once.” 

Considerable was told of the terror and anxiety 
hanging over the city during the long siege, and 
Alex declared it was worse than flying from the 
Indians up the Subenacadie. But, except for the 
sadness felt over the untimely fate of Edward 
Hyland, the little group felt very thankful for their 
safe passage through the trying scenes of the past 
few months. With hearty good wishes for a speedy 
return on the part of the others, Wallace Briant set 
out to find the Woodranger, and bring him back to 
Louisburg, never dreaming but the task would be an 
easy one. 


AN ASTONISHING DISCO VET V. 


319 


Both Rob and Norman missed the genial com- 
panionship of the Woodranger more than they cared 
to acknowledge, while, as week after week passed 
without bringing any tidings of Mr. Briant, all began 
to grow anxious. The scouts had entered the very 
heart of the enemy's country, and it was feared 
that they had lost their lives, though the young 
soldiers shared this feeling less than Mrs. Briant 
and Alex. 

One day, as our heroes were talking with Alex and 
his mother, a few words in the conversation caused 
Norman to inquire more into the particulars of their 
past lives, when he made a most astonishing dis- 
covery. 

‘‘ Do you mean, Alex, that you have a sister 
named Rilma ? and that your father and mother 
came here from among the Scotch-Irish people of 
the north of Ireland ? and that your grandfather's 
name was Robert MacDonald ? " 

Norman showed so much excitement that the 
others were at a loss to account for it, but Mrs. 
Briant repeated in about the same words the story 
of her past life that Mr. Briant had told the Wood- 
ranger in the canoe, while they were fleeing up 
Cobequid Bay. 

‘‘ It is the most wonderful thing I ever knew ! " 
exclaimed Norman, when she had finished. Rilma 
is living with her grandfather near my home on the 


320 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


Merrimack. She is my cousin, though I have 
always called her sister. She seems like it — 

Mrs. Briant, in her excitement, did not allow him 
to complete his sentence, and an animated series of 
questions and cross-questions followed, at the conclu- 
sion of which Mrs. Briant said : 

I am sure you are right, and I do not know what 
to say or think. It seems too good to be true, and 
yet it must be. I have mourned my darling as dead 
all these years, and now I shall clasp her again in 
my arms. It seems providential, and I cannot wait 
for the time when I can go and see my long-lost 
child. I wish Wallace were here.” 

From that time forward the return of Mr. Briant 
was looked for more anxiously than before, and when, 
at the end of two months, Rob and Norman were 
given permission to leave Louisburg, this feeling be- 
came intense. They did not wish to leave without 
knowing his fate, and it seemed an impossible task 
to find him. But Rob was all ready to start on the 
quest, when, to the great joy of all, Mr. Briant re- 
turned. But he bore no tidings of the Woodranger. 

“I am ashamed to say it,” he said, “but I have 
been far and wide without finding him. Once, in 
the region of the Subenacadie, I got on track of 
some one whose description tallied with his, but I 
soon lost further trace of him.” 

“ The Woodranger will look out for himself,” said 


AN ASTONISHING DISCOVERY, 


321 


Rob, but while the rest of you go directly home, I 
think I will follow in his footsteps. I cannot resist 
the temptation, though I may not find him. I will 
get home before the snow flies.'' 

Mr. Briant shared with Mrs. Briant the joy of 
what had been learned concerning her lost child, and 
he was as anxious as any of them to go to the Mer- 
rimack, though they might be obliged to return to 
Acadia as soon as the war was over. So the others 
bade adieu to Rob, who went toward Grand Pr6, 
while they took passage on a ship for Portsmouth, 
and from there made a tedious journey to the little 
settlement at Namaske Falls. It is easy to picture 
to the mind's eye the happiness of such a meeting as 
that was in the humble home of Robert MacDonald, 
Whatever wrongs he may have done under the influ- 
ence of his bitter surroundings, in the years gone 
by, they were forgotten now, and he wept with the 
others tears of joy. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE. 

Early in the following winter Rob Rogers returned 
to his home, but, to the disappointment of many, he 
brought no tidings of the missing forester. It was 
generally believed that he had been killed by some 
of the French or Indians, and his loss was felt keenly. 

Even Rob could not think differently, and the 
Woodranger had no more sincere mourner than the 
boy rangers, who now began active duties in ranging 
and scouting in the northern woods. 

The war could be said to be fairly on, and from 
west to east the colonists, English and French, were 
everywhere watchful and aggressive. An expedition 
to seize Fort Frederick at Crown Point, which lay 
in the route from Albany to Montreal, was planned 
by the commander of the British and provincial troops, 
prompted to do it by the success of the expedition to 
Louisburg. The French prepared in earnest to carry 
out the scheme, which had been so prematurely 
announced, of desolating New England at one great 
swoop of sea and land forces. To act a part in 
322 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE. 


323 


conjunction with the expected armament from France, 
in the early part of the summer of 1746, regular 
troops, militia, and Indians to the number of two 
thousand, were sent from Quebec into the Acadian 
country. 

If the first report of the coming of the French 
armada had proved a false alarm, it was likely to 
become real enough now. In spite of the watchful- 
ness of the British, the largest and most powerful 
war fleet that had ever started to cross the Atlantic 
stole out of the harbour of Brest and steered away 
toward New France. The fleet consisted of over 
seventy sails, eleven being ships of the line, twenty 
frigates, five were bomb ships, while the balance 
were tenders and transports. They carried over three 
thousand soldiers. The entire forces of land and sea 
were placed under the command of Duke d'Anville, 
a nobleman of experience in warfare, and his orders 
were to recover Louisburg and Annapolis-Royal, which 
he was to garrison, thence capture Boston, and raid 
the whole coast of America to the West Indies. 

It was not for the proud duke to carry out his 
ambitious scheme, as he was to meet with an enemy 
which his army could not overpower. His fleet was 
met by stormy weather soon after starting, so that 
its destination was not reached before the autumn 
gales set in. These disabled many of his ships, and 
scattered the vessels in every direction. One was 


324 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


burned, and two sent back, only to be captured by 
the English. After an anxious and perilous passage, 
lasting a hundred days, the commander reached Che- 
bucto (now Halifax) with but one ship of the line and 
a transport. He found three transports already there, 
and a frigate arrived the following day. Believing 
these were all there were left of his powerful armada, 
which had created such expectations in France, the 
admiral fell a victim to grief and disappointment, 
his death hastened, some say, by poison. In the after- 
noon of the day that Duke d’Anville died, Vice-Ad- 
miral Destournelle reached Chebucto with three ships 
of the line. The fleet was so decimated that he deemed 
it inadvisable to attempt any attack on the English. 
This decision overruled by his subordinates, in a 
delirum of despondency, when he imagined himself a 
prisoner in the hands of the enemy, he killed himself 
with his sword. 

Though the French officer next in command had 
decided to move upon Annapolis in conjunction with 
the soldiers sent from Quebec, it was necessary to 
wait until the men could recuperate before starting 
to meet the others in the rendezvous at Minas, 
now Horton. During this delay a disease broke out 
among the troops, spreading with frightful effect. 
It was soon caught by the Indians, and before its 
ravages had been stopped nearly one-third of the 
whole tribe of Micmacs had died. The Indians of 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE- 325 

North America were very susceptible to contagious 
diseases, as all savages are, and their numbers were 
often decimated at a fearful rate by some disorder. 

The delay at Chebucto was suddenly ended by 
the capture of an English vessel bound from Boston 
to Louisburg, and carrying, among other papers 
seized, a letter disclosing a plan of general attack on 
the French by a British fleet, then on the way across 
the ocean, and the New England men. Alarmed at 
this, the French commander decided to move at once, 
but his action proved ill-advised, for off the coast of 
Cape Sable the fleet, consisting now of forty sail, was 
disabled and scattered by a storm, so that the poor 
remnant of the proud armada that was to reduce 
New England was glad to return to France in dis- 
appointment and sorrow. 

But if rid of the ‘^flower of the French army,'’ 
New England stood in constant dread of the allied 
enemies, white and red, who menaced the safety of 
the entire frontier. Thus a thousand men volun- 
teered to go to New Scotland, or Nova Scotia, and 
make a bold stand. These troops started by ships, 
to meet with many misfortunes. Nearly a third of 
those from Rhode Island were shipwrecked off Mar- 
tha's Vineyard. New Hampshire’s contingent of 
two hundred succeeded in reaching the coast off 
Annapolis-Royal in the month of January. Believing 
that no others had been able to get so far, and the 


326 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


weather becoming more inclement, they went to St. 
Johns, New Brunswick, and thence returned home. 

Among these troops were Robert Rogers and 
Norman McNiel, who went ashore while the ship lay 
off Nova Scotia, and, in the faint hope of getting on 
the track of the Woodranger, decided to make an 
overland journey to Grand Pre. A kind providence 
seemed to have directed their footsteps, for on the 
fourth day they fell in with a body of Massachusetts 
troops, who were the volunteers from that province, 
and had succeeded in gaining the Bay of Fundy, 
where it was found impracticable to proceed farther 
on the vessel. Accordingly, the hardy troops had 
left the vessel, to undertake one of the worst marches 
that could be imagined, shaping their course for the 
meadows of the Gaspereau. 

The weather continued cold throughout midwinter 
that year, and snow fell to such depths that it lay in 
mighty drifts on the marshes, and in the forests it 
was more than four feet deep, light and fluffy, so that 
the men who led the train had to wade through it 
almost to their breasts. When it was too late they 
found their mistake in not taking snow-shoes, but, 
taking turns in breaking the way, they marched 
bravely ahead, the spruce and hemlock bowed be- 
neath the burden of the storms forming long, ghost- 
like walks, where the footfall gave back no sound, 
and the sun failed to penetrate. 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE. 


327 


Rob and Norman fared no better than the others. 
In fact, they took their turns with the Massachusetts 
men, until the end of the wintry march of eight days, 
when one and all were gladdened by the sight of the 
snow-white meadows of Grand Pre. 

It was snowing on the evening that the toil-worn 
men reached their destination, and, seeking the most 
sheltered spot they could find, they went into quar- 
ters along a lane running to the west of the village. 
Others sought a place of shelter near the beech 
woods extending toward the well-known smithy of 
Basil le Noir, the gunmaker of Acadia. 

Rob and Norman were with this division, and, 
though they could not blame the tired fellows, they 
were surprised at the indifference shown by the 
party to taking any precautionary steps for self-pro- 
tection, knowing as they did that, if they were in the 
country of the Acadian neutrals, they also were in 
the land of the Dark Abbe and his followers. It is 
true a guard was fixed, but as the evening wore on, 
and a furious wind swept the open country and filled 
their faces with the white, fluffy mass, one by one 
these poor fellows crept under the hasty shelter 
raised for the protection of their more fortunate 
companions. 

Rob laid down to rest, but not to sleep. He was 
too careful a woodsman to be caught off his watch. 
Seeing that the soldiers had left their posts, he 


328 THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 

rose to his feet, and began to march back and forth 
with his gun on his shoulder. It was nearly mid- 
night then, and the wind was howling bitterly over 
the tree tops and down through the orchards of 
Grand Prco Not a light came from the half-buried 
cottages, and it seemed as if every object, human 
or inanimate, was fast asleep, save the wind and 
the snow. The young Gunbearer was thinking of 
the evening a year and a half before, when he 
and the Woodranger had met with such stirring 
adventure in that vicinity, when a tall, snow-white 
figure appeared just beyond him. 

Halt ! ” he commanded, bringing his gun to 
bear upon the newcomer. Who are you } '' 

That be a discreet p’int to settle,” replied a well- 
known voice, and in a moment Rob forgot everything 
else in his joy at meeting an old friend. 

‘‘The Woodranger!” he exclaimed, joyously. 
“Where in the world have you come from } ” and he 
grasped the other's hand with a grip of fervent 
friendship. 

“That be not amazement to unravel now, lad, 
though it does these oF eyes good to rest on thy 
form, which has grown taller and stouter since I 
went away. I do not previcate the truth, lad, when 
I say that I have perambulated a goodish distance to 
get in here ahead o' the French and the plumed 
heathens, who have beat me, arter all. Let every 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE, 


329 


New England man be aroused, for the inemy is upon 
him. They have tramped all the way from Chig- 
necto, and are six hundred or more in number.’’ 

This startling news brought an exclamation of 
surprise from Rob, who quickly said : 

‘‘Do you think they will attack us soon. Wood- 
ranger ^ ” 

“ In less’n ten minutes, lad, or I ne'er know what 
in all consistency be mine to foretell. Where be 
the guard } " 

“There is none, Woodranger. We are in bad 
shape for a fight." 

“ Seeing the inemy have worn snow-shoes, they be 
ne’er overmuch fagged. They have just got all the 
inhabitants o’ this place clus down by the water, so 
as to get ’em out’n harm’s way. It may be they’ve 
shown a discretionary spirit, I can ne’er tell. This 
be the plan o’ the blacksmith, who will help lead the 
Micmacs.’’ 

The camp was quickly roused, and Norman was 
beside Rob in a moment. Then, a runner was sent 
post-haste to warn the others under the command 
of Colonel Noble. He had barely started before a 
musket-shot was heard in the direction of the lane. 

“They have opened the battle,’’ said Rob, “and it 
will be a hot fight.’’ 

The first attack was made on the main body in 
the lane, and the poor fellows were slaughtered like 


330 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


SO many deer suddenly driven from their retreat. 
The drifting snow blurred the sight and filled the 
air, while the shrieks of the wind drowned at times 
the war-cries of the enemy, and the surprised soldiers 
fought blindly, hopelessly, vainly, from the first. The 
party in the woods was about to dash to the assist- 
ance of their comrades, when they found themselves 
grappling hand to hand with overwhelming numbers. 
Led by Rob Rogers, the majority of these broke 
through the line and retreated toward the lane, in 
the hope of joining with their friends. But the 
night was so dark and stormy that they floundered 
about unable to find their way. They had now come 
to a house and barn, and Rob quickly set fire to the 
latter. It was well filled, and by the bright light 
of the burning building the scattered soldiers were 
enabled to rally, and, uniting, made such a determined 
stand that the enemy was driven back for the time. 
In order to obtain a better position, a retreat was 
made, and, guided by the Woodranger, the New Eng- 
landers made a firm resistance at the smithy of Basil 
le Noir. The allied forces made three desperate 
attempts to drive out the little party, one of them 
led by Basil le Noir, who lost his life in the attack. 

During the intervals between the attacks of the 
French Rob learned that the Woodranger had been 
on a lengthy ‘^perambulation'' of the north country, 
and that he had given up searching for the Briants, 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE. 


331 


having come to the conclusion that they had been 
killed. He showed more surprise than usual when 
he was told of their safety, and as Rob described the 
reunion of the family with the daughter so long lost 
the eyes of the forester kindled with pleasure, and 
he said: 

‘‘Then the truth be known, lad. It is better so 
— better as it is. I swan I haven’t felt so chipper 
since I was a lad. It may be an ol’ man’s weak p’int, 
but the ol’ man’s heart be lighter, and he can peram- 
bulate the long trail with ne’er desire to look back. 
It be good, lad, when one can look straight ahead 
and disremember the crooks and quirls in the trail 
behind.” 

“Yes, Woodranger, and it will add to their happi- 
ness when you return. You have been spoken of 
often.” 

“ Be that the truth, lad 1 And they remembered 
the ol’ man } I mean as they might a simple friend 
and companion. Tell me if that be the truth, ’yon’ 
prevication, lad ? ” 

“ It is, Woodranger. They remember you as a 
dear and faithful friend, one who risked his life for 
them, and they will hail your coming with great 
joy.” 

“ It be better for me to carry that sweet thought 
in my heart than all else. I can ne’er previcate the 
truth, nor dissemble to you, lad. There be an un- 


332 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER, 


rest o’er me. It may be an ol’ man’s weakness, but 
as sich I’m prone to let it master me. I opine I 
will perambulate the forest awhile longer. If I am 
gone overlong, lads,” speaking now both to Rob and 
Norman, “ and the years flow on like a swift-running 
river that ne’er flows backward, memory will bridge 
the stream o’ time, and our meeting and our parting 
here will seem but yesterday. Nay, lads, dissent 
not. It be better I follow this whim. Sometime 
you may see it as I do. Now you cannot.” 

The yellow light of a winter morning lay on the 
snow, crimsoned here and there with the life-blood 
of the victims of that night’s bitter fight, while 
occasional dark spots marked the half-buried bodies 
of the slain. As the Woodranger ceased speaking, a 
French officer, bearing a flag of truce, was seen to 
be approaching the smithy. The firing down by the 
lane had died into an ominous silence. It was 
quickly agreed by the little band by the forge that 
they could do no better than to listen to the pro- 
posal of the enemy, and thus they awaited his 
coming with anxious interest. 

The result of the conference was an acceptance 
of the best terms of capitulation they could make. 
The conditions of their surrender were that they 
should march off toward Annapolis with arms shoul- 
dered, drums beating, and colours flying, as they 
advanced between two lines of the enemy. They 


THE FIGHT AT THE FORGE. 


333 


were to be allowed six days’ provisions, a pound of 
powder, and a suitable supply of bullets to each man. 
On their part, each man pledged himself not to bear 
arms for six months against the French in that 
region of Acadia. They learned then that none of 
Colonel Noble’s gallant followers had escaped. 

As they were about to march forth, Rob and 
Norman looked around for the Woodranger, when, 
to their surprise, he was not to be seen. During the 
suspense of the debate with the officer of truce he 
had slipped out through the window of the smithy 
unobserved by any one, and, by crawling through the 
snow, had passed the enemy. Both were keenly 
disappointed, but they felt that their friend had 
acted as his judgment had dictated, and that he 
would escape his enemies. 

The fight at the forge ended the experiences of 
Rob and Norman in Acadia, for, upon reaching 
Annapolis-Royal, they started for the Merrimack 
valley, which they reached early in the spring. The 
inhabitants in that vicinity were now being harassed 
by French and Indian bands, so that both of them 
went into active service on the western frontier, 
bearing a gallant part in the perilous scenes. Eng- 
land paid but little heed to her colonies during this 
war, and the year r 747 passed without any important 
action being performed. The treaty of Aix-la-Cha- 
pelle followed on October 18, 1748, and the hard- 


334 


THE YOUNG GUNBEARER. 


fought victory of Louisburg was treated as only a 
piece of valuable property, since they traded Louis- 
burg for Madras in the East Indies, and it remained 
in French possession for eight years. Then an Eng- 
lish fleet and army that might be termed the flower 
of the British forces” assailed the citadel of Cape 
Breton, and Louisburg fell, never to rise again. Her 
fort was dismantled, fortifications destroyed, and 
to-day only their ruins mark the spot of the remark- 
able victory of the New Englanders in 1745. 

At the close of the war the Briant family bade 
good-bye to their friends and relatives at Namaske, 
to return to their home in Acadia, where they lived 
in comparative peace until the great banishment in 
1755. The treaty of 1748 left the boundaries of the 
French and English territory in America as unsettled 
as ever, and our heroes of the Merrimack valley 
were constantly called upon to defend the frontier, 
none in the sanguinary struggle doing better work 
than the Gunbearers of Silver River, and chief 
among these was Robert Rogers. 

Of course the Woodranger reappeared upon the 
scene of action, and the peculiar incidents connected 
with his return, the stirring part performed by John 
Stark, I hope to describe in my next Woodranger 
Tale, entitled “ The Hero of the Hills.” 


THE END., 


L. C. Page & Company’s 

Gift Book Series 


FOR 

Boys and Girls 

Each one volumet tall Mmo, clothe Illustfated> $1*00 

The Little ColoneFs House Party* By Annie Fellows- 
Johnston. 

Author of “ Little Colonel,” etc. Illustrated by E. B. Barry. 

Mrs. Johnston has endeared herself to the children by her 
charming little books published in the Cosy Corner 
Series. Accordingly, a longer story by her will be 
eagerly welcomed by the little ones who have so much 
enjoyed each story from her pen. 

Chums* By Maria Louise Pool. 

Author of “ Little Bermuda,” etc. Illustrated by L. J. 
Bridgman. 

“ Chums ” is a girls’ book, about girls and for girls. It re- 
lates the adventures, in school, and during vacation, of 
two friends. 

Three Little Crackers* From Doavn in Dixie. By Will 
Allen Dromgoole. 

Author of “ The Farrier’s Dog.” A fascinating story for 
boys and girls, of the adventures of a family of Alabama 
children who move to Florida and grow up in the South. 

Miss Gray^s Girls; or. Summer Days in the Scottish 
Highlands. By Jeannette A. Grant. 

A delightfully told story of a summer trip through Scot- 
land, somewhat out of the beaten track. A teacher, 
starting at Glasgow, takes a lively party of girls, her 
pupils, through the Trossachs to Oban, through the 
Caledonian Canal to Inverness, and as far north as 
Brora. 


Gift Book Series for Boys and Girls — Continued, 

Three Children of Galilee; A Life of Christ for the 
Young. By John Gordon. 

There has long been a need for a Life of Christ for the 
young, and this book has been written in answer to this 
demand. That it will meet with great favor is beyond 
question, for parents have recognized that their boys and 
girls want something more than a Bible story, a dry 
statement of facts, and that, in order to hold the atten- 
tion of the youthful readers, a book on this subject 
should have life and movement as well as scrupulous 
accuracy and religious sentiment. 

Little Bermuda* By Maria Louise Pool. 

Author of “ Dally,” “ A Redbridge Neighborhood,” “ In a 
Dike Shanty,” “ Friendship and Folly,” etc. 

The adventures of “ Little Bermuda ” from her home in 
the tropics to a fashionable American boarding-school. 
The resulting conflict between the two elements in her 
nature, the one inherited from her New England ances- 
try, and the other developed by her West Indian sur- 
roundings, gave Miss Pool unusual opportunity for 
creating an original and fascinating heroine. 

The Wild Ruthvens ; A Home Story. By Curtis York. 

A story illustrating the mistakes, failures, and successes of 
a family of unruly but warm-hearted boys and girls. 
They are ultimately softened and civilized by the influ- 
ence of an invalid cousin, Dick Trevanion, who comes to 
live with them. 

The Adventures of a Siberian Cub* Translated from the 
Russian of Slibitski by Leon Golschmann. 

This is indeed a book which will be hailed with delight, es- 
pecially by children who love to read about animals. 
The interesting and pathetic adventures of the orphan- 
bear, Mishook, will appeal to old and young in much the 
same way as have “Black Beauty” and “Beautiful Joe.” 

Timothy Dole* By Juniata Salsbury. 

The youthful hero, and a genuine hero he proves to be, 
starts from home, loses his way, meets with startling ad- 
ventures, finds friends, kind and many, and grows to be a 
manly man. It is a wholesome and vigorous book, that 
boys and girls, and parents as well, will read and enjoy. 


Gift Book Series for Boys and Girls — Continued, 

King Pippin : A Story for Children. By Mrs. Gerard 
Ford. 

Author of “ Pixie.” 

One of the most charming books for young folks which 
has been issued for some time. The hero is a lovable 
little fellow, whose frank and winning ways disarm even 
the crustiest of grandmothers, and win for him the affec- 
tion of all manner of unlikely people. 

Feats on the Fiord: A Tale of Norwegian Life. By 
Harriet Martineau. 

This admirable book, read and enjoyed by so many young 
people, deserves to be brought to the attention of parents 
in search of wholesome reading for their children to-day. 
It is something more than a juvenile book, being really 
one of the most instructive books about Norway and 
Norwegian life and manners ever written. 

Songs and Rhymes for the Little Ones* Compiled by Mary 
Whitney Morrison (Jenny Wallis). 

New edition, with an introduction by Mrs. A. D. T. Whitney. 

No better description of this admirable book can be given 
than Mrs. Whitney’s happy introduction : 

“One might almost as well offer June roses with the as- 
surance of their sweetness, as to present this lovely little 
gathering of verse, which announces itself, like them, by 
its own deliciousness. Yet, as Mrs. Morrison’s charming 
volume has long been a delight to me, I am only too 
happy to declare that it is to me — and to two families 
of my grandchildren — the most bewitching book of 
songs for little people that we have ever known.” 

The Young Pearl Divers: A Story of Australian Ad- 
venture BY Land and by Sea. By Lieut. H. 
Phelps Whitmarsh. 

This is a splendid story for boys, by an author who writes 
in vigorous and interesting language, of scenes and ad- 
ventures with which he is personally acquainted. 

The Woodranger* By G. Waldo Browne. 

The first of a series of five volumes entitled “ The Wood- 
ranger Tales.” 

Although based strictly on historical facts the book is an 
interesting and exciting tale of adventure, which will 
delight all boys, and be by no means unwelcome to their 
elders. 


Gift Book Scries for Boys and Girls — Continued. 

The Young Gunbearer* By G. Waldo Browne. 

This is the second volume of “The Woodranger Tales.’’ 
The new story, while complete in itself, continues the 
fortunes and adventures of “ The Woodranger’s ” young 
companions. 

A Bad Penny* By John T. Wheelright. 

A dashing story of the New England of 1812. In the 
climax of the story the scene is laid during the well- 
known sea-fight between the Chesapeake and Shannon^ 
and the contest is vividly portrayed. 

The Fairy Folk of Blue Hill: A Story of Folk-lore. 
By Lily F. Wesselhoeft. 

A new volume by Mrs. Wesselhoeft, well known as one of 
our best writers for the young, and who has made a host 
of friends among the young people who have read her 
delightful books. This book ought to interest and ap- 
peal to every child who has read her earlier works. 


Selections from 
L. C. Page & Company’s 
Books for Young People 

9 

Old Father Gander; or, The Better-Half of Mother 
Goose. Rhymes, Chimes, and Jingles scratched from 
his own goose-quill for American Go.slings. Illustrated 
with impossible Geese, hatched and raised by Walter 
Scott Howard. 

I voL, oblong quarto, cloth decorative . . . $ 2.00 

The illustrations are so striking and fascinating that the 
book will appeal to the young people aside from the fact 
even of the charm and humor of the songs and rhymes. 
There are thirty-two full-page plates, of which many are 
in color. The color illustrations are a distinct and suc- 
cessful departure from the old-fashioned lithographic 
work hitherto invariably used for children’s books. 

The Crock of Gold; A New Book of Fair*y Tales. 
By S. Baring Gould. 

Author of “ Mehalah,” “ Old Country Life,” “ Old English 
Fairy Tales,” etc. With twenty-five full-page illustrations 
by F. D. Bedford. 

I vol., tall i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . . ^1.50 

This volume will prove a source of delight to the children 
of two continents, answering their always increasing de- 
mand for “ more fairy stories.” 

Shireen and Her Friends: The Autobiography of a 
Persian Cat. By Gordon Stables. 

Illustrated by Harrison Weir. 

I vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . . $1.25 

A more charming book about animals Dr. Stables himself 
has not written. It is similar in character to “ Black 
Beauty,” “Beautiful Joe,” and other books which teach 
u« to love and protect the dumb animals. 


Books for Young People — Continued. 

Bully^ Fagt and Hero* By Charles J. Mansford. 

With six full-page illustrations by S. H. Vedder. 

I voL, large i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . . fi.50 

An interesting story of schoolboy life and adventure in 
school and during the holidays. 

The Adventures of a Boy Reporter in the Philippines. 
By Harry Steele Morrison. 

Author of “A Yankee Boy’s Success.” 

I vol., large 1 2mo, cloth, illustrated . . . $1.25 

A true story of the courage and enterprise of an American 
lad. It is a splendid boys’ book, filled with healthy inter- 
est, and will tend to stimulate and encourage the proper 
ambition of the young reader. 

Tales Told in the Zoo* By F. C. Gould. 

With many illustrations from original drawings. 

I vol., large quarto ^2.00 

A new book for young people on entirely original lines. 
The tales are supposed to be told by an old adjutant stork 
in the Zoological Gardens to the assembled birds located 
there, and they deal with legendary and folk-lore stories 
of the origins of various creatures, mostly birds, and 
their characteristics. 

Philip; The Story of a Boy Violinist. By T. W. O. 

I vol., i2mo, cloth . $T. 00 

The life-story of a boy, reared among surroundings singular 
enough to awaken interest at the start, is described by 
the present author as it could be described only by one 
thoroughly familiar with the scene. The reader is carried 
from the cottages of the humblest coal-miners into the 
realms of music and art ; and the finale of this charming 
tale is a masterpiece of pathetic interest. 

Black Beauty: The Autobiography of a Horse. By 
Anna Sewell. New Illustrated Edition. 

With twenty-five full-page drawings by Winifred Austin. 

I vol., large i 2 mo, cloth decorative, gilt top . . $1.2^ 

There have been many editions of this classic, but we con- 
fidently offer this one as the most appropriate and hand- 
some yet produced. The illustrations are of special 
value and beauty, and should make this the standard 
edition wherever illustrations worthy of the story are 
desired. 


Books for Young People — Continued. 

The Voyage of the Avenger: In the Days of the 
Dashing Drake. By Henry St. John. 

Author of “ A Middy of Nelson’s Day,” etc. With twenty- 
five full-page illustrations by Paul Hardy. 

I vol., tall i2mo, cloth decorative, gilt top, 400 pages $1.50 
A book of adventure, the scene of which is laid in that 
stirring period of colonial extension when England’s 
famous naval heroes encountered the ships of Spain, 
both at home and in the West Indies. Mr. St. John 
has given his boy readers a rattling good story of the 
sea. There is plenty of adventure, sufficient in fact to 
keep a boy fixed near the fireside until the last page is 
reached. 

A Child's History of Spain* By Leonard Williams. 
Author of “ Ballads and Songs of Spain,” etc. 

I vol., small i2mo, with frontispiece, cloth, gilt top $0.75 
Although the recent war with Spain has aroused general 
interest and caused a great demand for literature relating 
to the subject, there has not as yet been published a con- 
densed history of Spain for young people. Mr. Williams’s 
little book will prove a desirable addition to the children’s 
historical library. 

Fairy Folk from Far and Near* By A. C. Woolf, M. A. 
With numerous full-page color illustrations by Hans Reitz. 
I vol., large i2mo, cloth decorative . . • $1*50 

It is long since there has appeared such a thoroughly de- 
lightful volume of fairy tales as that of Annie C. Woolf. 
An added attraction to the book is found in the exquisite 
colored illustrations, the work of Hans Reitz. As a 
Christmas gift-book to children, these tales will be hard 
to excel. 

The Magnet Stories* By Lynde Palmer. 

A new edition ; new binding and larger size volume, 5 vols., 
i2mo. Reduced price. 

Drifting and Steering ^i^i.oo 

One Day's Weaving 

Archie's Shadow 

John-Jack - 

Jeannette's Cisterns . 


1. 00 


L. C. Page & Company’s 
Cosy Corner Series 

OF 

Charming Juveniles 


Each one volume^ \6mOf cloth, Illustrated, 50 cents 


Ole Mammy's Torment By Annie Fellows-Johnston. 
Author of “ The Little Colonel,” etc. 

The Little CoIoneL By Annie Fellows-Johnston. 
Author of “ Big Brother.” 

Big Brother* By Annie Fellows-Johnston. 

Author of “ The Little Colonel,” etc. 

The Gate of the Giant Scissors* By Annie Fellows- 
Johnston. 

Author of “ The Little Colonel,” etc. 

Two Little Knights of Kentucky, who were “The Little 
Colonel’s ” neighbors. By Annie Fellows-Johnston. 
A sequel to “ The Little Colonel.” 

The Story of Dago* By Annie Fellows-Johnston. 
Author of “ The Little Colonel,” etc. 

Farmer Brown and the Birds* By Frances Margaret 
Fox. A little story which teaches children that the birds 
are man’s best friends. 


Cosy Comer Series — Continued. 

For His Country* By Marshall Saunders. 

A beautiful story of a patriotic little American lad. 

A Little Puritan^s First Christmas* By Edith Robinson. 

A Little Daughter of Liberty* By Edith Robinson. 

Author of “A Loyal Little Maid,” “A Little Puritan 
Rebel,” etc. 

A true story of the Revolution. 

A Little Puritan Rebel* By Edith Robinson. 

An historical tale of a real girl, during the time when the 
gallant Sir Harry Vane was governor of Massachusetts. 

A Loyal Little Maid* By Edith Robinson. 

A delightful and interesting story of Revolutionary days, 
in which the child heroine, Betsey Schuyler, renders im- 
portant services to George Washington and Alexander 
Hamilton. 

A Dog of Flanders* A Christmas Story. By Louise 
DE LA Ramee (Ouida). 

The Numberg Stove* By Louise de la Ram6e (Ouida). 

This beautiful story has never before been published at a 
popular price. 

The King of the Golden River* A Legend of Stiria. 
By John Ruskin. 

Written fifty years or more ago, this little fairy tale soon 
became known and made a place for itself. 

La Belle Nivernaise* The Story of An Old Boat and 
Her Crew. By Alphonse Daudet. 

It has been out of print for some time, and is now offered 
in cheap but dainty form in this new edition. 

The Young King* The Star Child* 

Two stories chosen from a recent volume by a gifted 
author, on account of their rare beauty, great power, 
and deep significance. 

A Great Emergency* By Mrs. Ewing. 

The Trinity Flower* By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

In this little volume are collected three of Mrs. Ewing’s 
best short stories for the young people. 


Cosy Comcf Series — Continued. 

Story of a Short Life* By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

This beautiful and pathetic story is a part of the world’s 
literature and will never die. 

Jackanapes* By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 

A new edition, with new illustrations, of this exquisite and 
touching story, dear alike to young and old. 

The Little Lame Prince* By Miss Mulock. 

A delightful story of a little boy who has many adventures 
by means of the magic gifts of his fairy godmother. 

The Adventures of a Brownie* By Miss Mulock. 

The story of a household elf who torments the cook and 

gardener, but is a constant joy and delight to the children. 

His Little Mother* By Miss Mulock. 

Miss Mulock’s short stories for children are a constant 
source of delight to them, and ‘‘ His Little Mother,” in 
this new and attractive dress, will be welcomed by hosts 
of readers. 

Little Sunshine^s Holiday* By Miss Mulock. 

“ Little Sunshine ” is another of those beautiful child- 
characters for which Miss Mulock is so justly famous. 

"Wee Dorothy* By Laura Updegraff. 

A story of two orphan children, the tender devotion of the 
eldest, a boy, for his sister being its theme. 

Rah and His Friends* By Dr. John Brown. 

Doctor Brown’s little masterpiece is too well known to 
need description. 

The Water People* By Charles Lee Sleight. 

Relating the further adventures of “ Harry,” the little hero 
of “ The Prince of the Pin Elves.” 

The Prince of the Pin Elves* By Chas. Lee Sleight. 

A fascinating story of the underground adventures of a 
sturdy, reliant American boy among the elves and 
gnomes. 

Helena^s Wonderworld* By Frances Hodges White. 

A delightful tale of the adventures of a little girl in the 
mysterious regions beneath the sea. 


Cosy Corner Series — Continued, 

The Adventures of Beatrice and Jessie* By Richard 

Mansfield. 

A bright and amusing story of the strange adventures of 
two little girls in the ‘‘ realms of unreality.” 

A Child^s Garden of Verses* By R. L. Stevenson. 

This little classic is undoubtedly the best of all volumes of 
poetry for children. 

Little King Davie* By Nellie Hellis. 

It is sufficient to say of this book that it has sold over 
110,000 copies in England, and consequently should well 
be worthy of a place in “ The Cosy Corner Series.” 

Little Peterkin Vandike* By Charles Stuart Pratt. 

The author’s dedication furnishes a key to this charming 
story. 

“ I dedicate this book, made for the amusement of the 
boys who may read it, to the memory of one boy, who 
would have enjoyed as much as Peterkin the plays of 
the Poetry Party.” 

The Making of Zimri Bunker* A Tale of Nantucket. 
By W. J. Long. 

The story deals with a sturdy American fisher lad during 
the war of 1812. 

The Fortunes of the Fellow* By Will Allen Drom- 
GOOLE. A sequel to “The Farrier’s Dog and His 
Fellow.” 

The Farrier^s Dog and His Fellow. By Will Allen 
Dromgoole. 

This story, written by the gifted young Southern woman, 
will appeal to all that is best in the natures of her many 
admirers. 

The Sleeping Beauty* A Modern Version. By Martha 
B. Dunn. 

A charming story of a little fishermaid of Maine, intellect- 
ually “asleep,” until she meets the “Fairy Prince.” 

The Young Archer* By Charles E. Brimblecom. 

A strong and wholesome story of a boy who acoompanied 
Columbus on his voyage to the New World. 


L. C. Page & Company’s 

Cosy Corner Series 

FOR 

Older Readers 

Memories of the Manse* By Anne Breadalbane. Illus- 
trated. 

Christmas at Thompson ^Hall* By Anthony Trollope. 

A Provence Rose* By Louise de la Ramee (Ouida). 

In Distance and in Dream* By M. F. Sweetser. 

A story of immortality, treating with profound insight of 
the connection between the life which now is and the life 
which is to come. 

Will o^ the Mill* By Robert Louis Stevenson. 

An allegorical story by this inimitable and versatile writer. 
Its rare poetic quality, its graceful and delicate fancy, 
its strange power and fascination, justify its separate 
publication. 


i 


<1 





OCT 6 1900 






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